


The Spider-Duo and the Menacing Masked Mercenary

by starrelia



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Gwen (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Bisexual Male Character, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Pansexual Character, Cisgender, Demisexual Female Character, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, M/M, Multi, On Hiatus, Polyamory, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, eventual polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-07-29 15:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 79,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7690666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrelia/pseuds/starrelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE</b>
</p><p> </p><p>"Spider-gal and I work for him, and you don't ever get irritated at her about it!" Peter snaps.</p><p>“It’s because she isn’t sucking Peter Parker’s fucking man teat!” Deadpool snaps back. “Seriously, you could quit working for him, work for me instead-“</p><p>“Are you saying you can take better care of us than Peter Parker?” Gwen asks.</p><p>or, in which Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy are Spider-man and Spider-gal, and Deadpool hangs out with them ninety-five percent of the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why, Deadpool, are you jealous?

**Author's Note:**

> SO. I have a lot of stuff I need to talk about while writing this and that's because this AU is literally a cobbled up canon that I made up and I kind of have a lot that I need to absolutely at least point out before you read this [because I very lovingly, or rather lazily, called this my 'Earth-617 AU]:
> 
> 1) Spider-Gwen and Spider-Peter both exist in this AU, and that's not because it's two universes merging or anything, or Gwen is from another Earth; she's from this Earth. In this AU, she's called Spider-gal because I wanted her to have a "G" in her name.
> 
> 2) Peter Parker has lost both his arms and are both prosthetic/cybernetic arms with built-in web shooters.
> 
> 3) Gwen's costume is the same one from the Spider-Gwen series, but Peter Parker's outfit has been changed in this one. It was initially his normal red and blue one, but then he accidentally found out Spider-gal was his girlfriend and decided to redesign his costume to match hers, which means it's black, white, blue and pink [with blue and pink being more minimal than the black and white].
> 
> 4) This will follow some of the comic arcs with my own twist on them, and there will be a few original arcs as well, though it will take me a long time to be able to develop them all and I'll need time to work on the original arcs while being able to work with the canon-comic compliant arcs with some ease.
> 
> 5) Peter and Gwen have been in a relationship for a long, LONG time, and Deadpool has known them for a good long time too. They aren't in a relationship yet, and it will hopefully be developed as time goes on so that Wade is accepted by both Gwen and Peter. As well, the Spider-duo don't know Deadpool's real identity yet because even though they refused to let the Avengers tell them his identity, they did listen to them when they talked about his career.
> 
> 6) Peter is 5'6", Gwen is 5'11", and Deadpool is 6'5".
> 
> AND THAT is all. For now.

“You know,” Gwen says, one knee drawn up and one leg hanging over the edge of the rooftop while Peter crouches next to her, his eyes intensely focus on the ants of people beneath them, “sometimes I forget how much I hate New York.”

Peter snorts at that, a smile spreading underneath his mask. “Aw c’mon, it’s not that bad. It never gets boring here, at least! We’re both always active, we’re bouncy and fighting…”

“We also fought a guy who calls himself ‘Skunkman’, who only exists in New York. And we had to burn our old suits. Because of New York.”

“… Okay, yes.” He laughs sheepishly. “That uh… well, I mean, that was pretty… unique. Hopefully he’ll just stay in prison…?”

Gwen sighs. “I give him two weeks tops before he breaks out because he had a hidden stink bomb somewhere. I bet… twenty bucks on it.”

Peter snorts and crosses his arms. He leans back, making sure to be careful not to fall off and go splat – even if he’ll be able to web himself to safety, he doesn’t need the embarrassment – and looks at Gwen from the corner of his eyes. He’s sure she can tell; maybe Peter needs to invest in ‘overly expressive masks’, kind of like what Dead-

… He needs to ask how Deadpool even has his mask do something like that. How does he do that? “I say more like, five weeks.” Peter says. “Five weeks? You wanna bet five weeks?”

“Still say two.”

“If you’re right, you get twenty. If I’m right, I get twenty.”

“You don’t need a twenty! You’re rich!” Gwen protests and she shakes her head, moving back so that she can cross her legs and her arms and stare at Peter accusatorily.

“Money is still _money;_ it’s still nice to have!” Peter says while trying not to snicker at the indignant expression he can practically _feel_ through her mask. “C’mon, let’s make a bet-“

Before Peter can finish his sentence, Gwen and he hear an exhausted yell from the left and they blink at each other before they focus over on the left ledge, and he _groans_ when he catches sight of Deadpool struggling to get up the ledge.

“You—you guys—need to stop _going_ so high up these buildings, lordie looord!” Deadpool wheezes as he gets up finally, stands up, and makes a croaked noise as a loud _crack_ resounds when he straightens his back; Peter and Gwen can only wince at that. “ _Ogh_ my aching spine! I think I broke something.”

“Uh.” Peter starts, and Gwen interrupts him before he can say anything else. “Deadpool!” she cries out, hops up on her feet and he watches her web Deadpool’s stomach and yank him close. He yelps as he flies towards her and Gwen grabs at his hands and kicks his leg out and dips him, as though they are lovers in a dance, and Peter lets out a suffering _sigh._ “If we don’t climb up so high, how are you going to keep up with us?”

As though he is being awakened by her words, Deadpool jerks and wraps his arms around her and twists them around so that they are both standing—he brings one of her hands close to his chest and holds the other hand out, both of them staring so intensely at each other that Peter feels _almost_ like a third-wheel.

Which is… ridiculous because Gwen and him are _dating._ What the hell, how is Deadpool making him feel like the third wheel!?

“Baby girl,” Deadpool says, interrupting Peter’s thoughts, “you know I can _always_ keep up with you; my guns and blades can absolutely keep up with your melon-crushing legs—“

“Deadpool, I’ve never crushed melons with my legs.” Gwen says, her voice clearly full of mirth, and Peter smacks his forehead.

Loudly, he says, “no one is going to crush anything with their legs!” and they glance at him briefly, before they go back to looking into each other’s eyes as they actually _dance._ Gwen grabs at Deadpool then, drags him to the middle of the rooftops, and spins him away from her before she webs him back and dips him once more. “I really hope you two don’t make ‘greeting dances’ a habit.”

“Baby boy’s just jealous of our _luuuurve_ baby girl!” Deadpool says, his hands dramatically clasping at Gwen’s face and she leans in close. “But there’s plenty of the pool of Dead to go around! C’mon, Spiiiidey, take a dip in my love pool, join your Spidah-gal here!”

“He’s right you know,” Gwen says as she yanks him up. “Deadpool and I don’t _have_ to love alone, my dear!” she sighs dramatically and rests the back of her hand against her forehead. “It’s so lonely, Spider-man! Our heart—it aches, because there is a third beat missing!”

Peter stares down at the streets and briefly, ever so briefly, considers tipping forward and falling so that he can get away from the daily flirting. “I’m sure if a third beat is missing then there’s something _probably_ wrong with your heart.” Peter says blankly in response, and both Deadpool and Gwen gasp dramatically.

“But Spider-man!” Gwen says. “You not joining in on our pure—“

“— there’s nothing pure about you and Deadpool! You’re both as awful as each other!”

“Baby boy, how rude! Don’t interrupt Spider-gal!”

“Well, _excuse me_ messieurs, let me finish. Anyway. Ohhh! Spider-man! You not joining in on our pure, fantastical loooove is exactly what is wrong with our hearts!”

Before Peter can even react, Deadpool and Gwen are close to him and yanking him back, and he chokes as they force him to stand just so that they can lean and pose dramatically against him. “All we ask from you, baby boy, is that you kiss us like I! Kiss! Her!” Deadpool sings and Peter winces.

“No singing!” Peter yells and sinks as both the giants lean on him _harder,_ and he can’t help the groan that escapes him. “Don’t start singing! You’re bad at singing!”

“Spider-man, how cruel!” Deadpool gasps, though he laughs afterwards. “I thought I was your _husband!_ ”

“I’m not even married to Spider-gal, why would I be married to you!?”

Gwen sighs and sinks down even further onto Peter, his knees buckling, and Deadpool leans his weight even further onto him. Peter may have the proportionate strength of a spider and he may not be that weak of a man, but these two are _still_ heavier and bigger than him.

They’re bloody monsters.

“You just haven’t married me yet because you won’t listen to my totally reasonable request that Deadpool _also_ marry us.” Gwen says, imitating a haughty and snooty voice, and Peter feels like kicking her off of him.

Deadpool practically squeals as he hears that and Peter considers also kicking him off of himself. “Oh, Spidey-gal! I knew my fantasies were right to paint you as a serene angel!”

“Wait, fantasies?” Peter asks and Deadpool shushes him.

“Don’t worry about it too much, baby boy. All you need to know is that even in my dirtiest dreams-“

“Your dirtiest dreams?!”

“- Spider-gal is the purest angel ever!”

Gwen giggles and Peter is about to yell his indignant feelings at Deadpool when he feels the vague yet ever so distinct vibration of his [second] work phone. Gwen stiffens up when he snaps his fingers thrice and she stands up properly then, and Deadpool continues to lean on him, hoping to look over and see what Peter is grabbing at as he reaches for his belt while his arms wrap around him.

He brings his phone up, quickly reads over the message sent to him by an officer and he gives it a hard stare. “We have a situation going on in a warehouse roughly thirty-four miles away! We have to get going!” he straightens up, stares down at the arms wrapped around him tightly and stares at the happy, amused look on Deadpool’s face, and Peter raises his eyebrow even though he can’t see it. “You gonna let go, Deadpool?”

“Nope!” Deadpool sings. “You’re gonna have t-“ before he can finish his comment, Peter punches him off – hard enough to at least send Deadpool flying off of him and probably off the roof – and he runs and jumps off to web his way over to the warehouse.

Gwen looks over the corner of the roof and yells. “SORRY DEADPOOL! YOU CAN JOIN US AT THE WAREHOUSE!” and she stays for a moment or two before she swings off and away to join Peter in kicking some butt.

Because New York City is never, _ever_ a dull place.

 

 

 

Ah yes indeedy, New York City. A fine place. A wonderful place; if New York City is one day turned into a man or a woman or a person, Peter will more than happily date him, or her or them. New York City is fantastic.

Really, it is. Even if Peter is mostly stalling because he has to deal with another gaggle of thugs _again_ because NYC is full of wonderful things, such as villains. And wannabe villains; and a lot of superheroes, surprisingly.

“Hey!” Peter yells out as he swings past Gwen, taking in Spider-gal in her full glory as she kicks an unsuspecting bastard unconscious, and she turns her head and he can imagine the raised eyebrow she’s giving him. “Whaddaya think’s so great about New York that they keep coming back here, huh?” Peter asks, dodging to the left as some idiot tries to punch him from behind and he falls down, balances himself on his hands, and uses his hands to launch himself up and kick the asshole with both feet before landing gracefully.

He jerks back when Gwen’s web shoots by him and grabs hold of three of the thugs that are in the warehouse and she jerks them up and above after Peter makes sure to move out of her way. Slamming them against the wall, Gwen responds. “Media’s hyped this place up so much you gotta be a villain here! Otherwise it’s too easy anywhere else! Like, can you imagine being a villain in Sweden or something?”

“It’d probably be peaceful!” Peter says, ducking as two yahoos try to punch him and end up punching each other, and he slams both his fists into their chins and sends them flying. “I mean, they’d probably be beaten up less because I cannot imagine how long it’ll take the heroes to get to Sweden. They’d have to fly there! We don’t have teleportation yet, do we?”

Just as Gwen is about to respond, their third (briefly forgotten) party finally makes his entrance into the warehouse, smashing through the roof and both Spider-man and Spider-gal wince as Deadpool breaks his legs. He croaks on the floor for a bit and everyone, even the rude jerks that are attacking them, stop to stare at Deadpool.

Eventually, Deadpool shakily forces himself up on his hands and gives both Gwen and Peter a thumbs up. “I do!” he yells and Peter stares at him, blankly, trying to figure out what he means. “I’m not talkin’ about marriage if that’s what you’re thinkin’, baby boy, but I would totally not mind marrying you and baby girl-“

“I call the tuxedo! You and Spidey can wear the dresses.” Gwen says while grabbing a thug next to her by the shoulders and then throwing him at the wall. “The one thing I demand is that my tux has to have a web design all over or there is no wedding!”

Peter makes a choked noise, ducking and he leaps out from underneath Deadpool as he launches towards someone that tries to ambush him. “Why do I have to wear a dress!? I want to wear a white suit at least!” he pauses. “Also with a web design all over!”

“You’d look good in a dress!” Deadpool coos, and Peter kicks him in the small of his back and smiles behind his mask at the indignant squawk he gets. “What?! It’s true! Aren’t I right, my baby gally-poo?” he slides over to Gwen and drapes his arm over her, and he very quickly shoots out someone’s knee and Peter groans more at the shooting than Deadpool draping himself over his girlfriend.

Gwen taps her chin and then very quickly webs the last of the thugs that they are beating up, with Peter webbing up all the rest, and she nods sagely. “Deadpool has a point, Spidey,” Gwen says, “you _would_ look good in a dress. But it’d have to be a dress that makes it all the way to your ankles. Deadpool should wear a knee-length wedding dress.”

“There isn’t going to be a wedding!” Peter says after a while, making his way over to Gwen and Deadpool and he places his hands on his hips. “I didn’t even agree to getting married—why are we talking about wedding outfits?”

“You distracted me from my original point!” Deadpool says as he flicks Peter through his mask. “What I was going to say before you looked at me all weird-“

“You can’t see me through my mask.” Peter deadpans.

Gwen nudges him with her elbow. “Shhh, Spidey. Let the man finish!”

“ _Thank you_ baby girl.” Deadpool says, beaming. “Aaaanyway,” he waves his hand. “I happened to hear you guys _talking_ about being villains in Sweden,” Peter has to wonder _how_ Deadpool is able to hear them if he apparently has fallen from the roof, “and I heeeard teleportation and I’d love to let you know that I, indeed, have a teleporter.”

They stare at Deadpool for a bit. “Isn’t your teleporter kind of malfunctioning and glitchy?” Gwen asks, her arms crossing in front of her and Peter leans against her taller form.

He hears Deadpool cough against his own fist, trying to exaggerate the cough and both Gwen and Peter wince from the phlegmy sound of his cough. _‘Yowch.’_ Peter thinks. “I fixed it!” Deadpool desperately reassures and Peter sighs. “Seriously! I swear I fixed it!”

“We’re not using it.” Gwen and Peter say simultaneously, their arms crossing in front of them and they both look at Deadpool accusatorily, and he slumps in defeat at their stares. “Aaaanyway,” Gwen is the one who talks and Peter moves away from her so that she can properly stretch. “Spidey and I are gonna go ‘round swinging for a bit before we stop; you wanna j-“

“YES.” Deadpool yells before Gwen can even finish her sentence and she snorts. Peter moves away a bit and he reaches for his belt, hidden under his black costume, and he quickly calls the police and stares at Gwen and Deadpool from the corner of his eyes as the mercenary clings to his girlfriend. “You are _the nicest_ Spider-gal, you know that? You actually let me ride you—wink wink, nudge nudge?”

“I think you’re supposed to _actually,_ you know, _do_ those instead of say them?”

“Semantics! Semantics.”

“I feel like you’re misusing semantic when pedantic works better.” Gwen shakes her head.

Deadpool hushes her and Gwen actually helps him by holding him up by his ass so that he can do his overdramatic shushing with more ease. “Po-tey-toe, po-tah-to, who cares! Anyway, you actually let me ride along with you, unlike Spider-man here who holds me by his side like I’m luggage!”

Peter groans as he moves his costume sleeve up so that he can check the watch on his [totally cool] left cybernetic arm. “Gee,” he says blankly, “I wonder why I lug you around like that, and I wonder if it’s because you squirm too much against me.”

“I don’t mind it.” Gwen pipes up. Peter makes a face at her that, though she can’t see, he’s totally sure that Gwen knows what face she’s making given the way she just _beams_ up at him.

Deadpool clings to her like a koala after her admission, nuzzling against her side and he smooches her cheek even with the masks in the way. “This is why you’re the cuddly Spidey and Spider-man is the Spidey I gotta coax! He will accept our loooooove!”

“Can we just go? I have to be somewhere in an hour.” Peter sighs and points up and webs his way up to the hole that Wade has made with his unceremonious fall and he crawls up the hole and onto the roof, and Gwen shows up soon after, Deadpool on her back. Despite him wearing a mask, Peter can see the glee clear on Deadpool’s face and he rolls his eyes behind his own mask and Gwen and he run side by side before webbing off of the roof.

Deadpool’s excited yell is almost deafening, but Gwen seems to not be bothered by it all that much and Peter shakes his head. “The police should hopefully have all those jerks in prison. It’s always _something_ happening in NYC, isn’t it?”

“Ah NYC,” Deadpool says with a dreamy sigh, “the sweetie that never sleeps.”

“City.” Gwen absentmindedly corrects, and Peter smiles at her as they’re webbing their way through NYC for a bit. “Where d’ya need to be, Spidey-man?” Gwen asks, though Peter is more than aware that she knows he has a meeting. _Deadpool,_ however, doesn’t know a single thing and tries not to sigh at the way he leans in with complete interest in knowing what Peter is doing.

“Well,” he says, “Peter Parker just sent me a text saying he needs me to hide around in Parker industries HQ for a bit; he recently got a threatening letter from someone, and he wants to make sure he’s safe while he’s just having a meeting.”

The air around them practically sours with Deadpool’s mood and Peter has to swallow the knot that forms in his throat despite knowing that Deadpool is just being… irrational. “Spidey, why do you keep working for that rich brat?”

“That’s none of your business, Deadpool.” Peter says icily. “Both Spider-gal and I work for him, and you don’t ever get irritated at her about it!”

“It’s because she isn’t sucking Peter Parker’s fucking man teat!” Deadpool snaps back, and despite that, he hears Gwen giggle and Peter has to hold his own snort when he realises where her amusement is coming from. “Seriously, you could quit working for him, work for me instead-“

“Are you saying you can take better care of us than Peter Parker?” Gwen asks, mirth in her voice instead of actual seriousness. “C’mon, let’s not go any further with this, okay? We’re gonna work for Parker industries, and we have to be gone in an hour or so. Or rather, Spider-man has to be gone. I have another thing to do for Dr. Parker.”

Deadpool’s _still_ fuming quietly on her back, glaring at Peter, and there’s a sigh that desperately wants to slip out from the hostility sent his way. “Hey,” Gwen speaks up again, “about our date tomorrow-“

Date?

Gwen looks at him briefly and it takes Peter some time to realise that Deadpool has perked up again, interest clear and the anger momentarily gone. “Y-yeah? What about it?” Peter says, cursing himself for stuttering, and Gwen swings up to a building close to where he needs to go and he follows after.

They crawl up the walls, Deadpool giggling gleefully from where he’s wrapped around Gwen’s back, and Peter can’t help but smile at the childish joy that Deadpool always seem to have for them. “A date, huh?” Deadpool says, the whites of his mask wide with mischievous interest. “Saaaay, what if _I_ join your playdate?”

“We’re gonna be in costume.” Peter blurts out and Deadpool looks at him blankly with an expression that – despite his mask - manages to convey an _‘I know’_ message. “Wait. You’re n-“

“You’re in!” Gwen sings once they get to the roof, her hands on Wade’s thighs and she giggles at how Peter nearly trips. He doesn’t even—

 _‘We don’t even have a date tomorrow, do we.’_ He thinks and stares at Gwen, and as though she has read his mind she shakes her head. _‘Now we do.’_ He thinks and, again, Gwen nods as though she is a telepath. “We should meet up on our usual building!”

“The usual one?” Peter asks.

“Y’know, the one you always find me at, the one where you thwipped me the first time and thwapped me against the wall and asked me what the hell I’m doing in New York? And then I got unnecessarily mad, and tried to kill you, or well it wasn’t _unnecessarily_ mad, you stole my mark at the time, but I’ve gotten better at it! Less murder lately, much less. Actually, you didn’t even-“

“Deadpool,” Gwen says patiently, “get to the point.”

“Right! You know, the building where both you and Spider-gal kicked my ass the first time, remember that?”

Peter blinks. “Oh yeah, I remember now.”

“Let’s meet up on that tomorrow, twelve at noon, and we can decide where to go tomorrow!” Gwen sings excitedly, bounces Deadpool on her back, and Peter groans and throws his hands up in the air.

“I’m off now. I got a CEO to protect.”

There’s an oddly dark silence that hangs over them. “You absolutely do!” Deadpool chirps, slides off of Gwen’s back, and Peter decides to just swing away to his building so that he can get to his meeting on time. He still has twenty minutes to spare, at least.


	2. I don't think they count as real ninjas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing Gwen.

For all Gwen has to say about New York, mostly negative because there isn’t a day where she doesn’t have to fight a bad guy, she does actually love the place. It’s early morning – roughly seven in the morning – and Peter’s busy, unable to join Gwen for their usual patrols, so she has to do this on her own for a few hours, her own spider-phone (she’s more open about calling it that than Peter, who calls it his second work phone) out just in case the NYPD has anything to report. It’s a collaborative effort to keep New York safe, after all!

Even though they have been doing this more frequently – the whole ‘having to work solo for a bit thing’ due to new work – she still can’t help but feel a tad alone. Peter and her always swing around together, looking tirelessly for people to stop, and it’s easier when they’re working together. It’s not like she hates the loneliness, it just doesn't feel… fun without Peter around.

For now, though? While she’s waiting and relaxing before she goes patrolling? She just wants to sit high above everyone else, bathing in the sun and allow herself some time to think.

How long has she been at this whole thing, and yet she still has time to feel _wonder_ over this whole thing? She can’t help the laughter that escapes her, and she relaxes considerably from where she’s crouching on the edge of the roof. She almost wishes that she can take her hood and mask off to be able to feel the wind in her hair, but there’s the soft buzzing of her spider-sense in her head, alerting her that someone else is nearby and she absolutely cannot give her identity away.

Only Peter and her dad know, and she’s fine with that—for now. She knows that there will be someone else that will learn eventually, whether or not it’s through Gwen’s own consent. “I know you’re there,” Gwen says eventually when the person doesn’t bother making themself known. “I just wanna know what you want. You a bad guy? A fan? A goodie? Are you Daredevil? I thought Daredevil never leaves Hell’s Kitchen-“

“It’s me, baby girl.” At the sound of Deadpool’s voice she relaxes, no longer tense and ready to fight if she has to. The buzzing of her spider-sense is still going on, and she looks over her shoulder to see Deadpool with his hands up in surrender and the vague shape of a backpack on his… well, back. “I was wonderin’ why my favourite silhouette of a Spiduh-gal was awake at this fantabulous moment!”

Gwen blinks behind her mask and gestures at Deadpool to join her, to which the man practically skips over to her and he plops down next to her, legs hanging from the edge. “I wake up really early sometimes.” Gwen admits. “Mostly cause of Spider-man; he wakes up ridiculously early and sometimes crime happens _very_ early on in the day.” She makes sure to leave out the fact that he wakes up at dawn to pray and that Gwen has gotten used to waking up from some of Peter’s movements.

“Huh! Never woulda pegged baby boy as an early riser. Then again; he is a responsible boy, isn’t he?” Deadpool asks, leaning closer to Gwen and she shifts so that she’s sitting more comfortably. “With great power,” Deadpool begins while trying to imitate Peter’s muffled voice, “comes great responsibility.”

Gwen smiles. “Actually,” she says, “it’s with great power also comes great responsibility. Spidey gets bent out of shape when people forget about the ‘also’ bit.” Deadpool hums and he kicks his legs, looking like a bored kid at school more than anything else. “Why are _you_ awake though, Deadie?”

“Just call me D.P!” he chirps enthusiastically, the whites of his mask wide with excitement, and he droops when the lack of amusement from Gwen is palpable in the air, even to her. “Okay, okay, so you actually know what it stands for. Deadie it is.”

“I could call you Pool. Like Pool. Dead, Pool.” She offers and snorts when Deadpool perks up immediately at that. “Pool it is. So, Pool,” she says and watches as Deadpool shakes with giddy excitement, “wanna tell me why you’re up so early?”

There is silence for only a fraction of a second before Deadpool stretches and lets out an exaggerated yawn; it’s so exaggerated, Gwen actually has to web his back onto the roof when he tips over and she yanks him back with a sigh. “Pool, don’t do that.” she chastises and walks over to where he’s lying on his back, her hands on her hips as she stands over him.

“Babe, you have no clue how many fantasies of mine have started this way.” Deadpool sings, and Gwen snorts. “And for _your_ information, I didn’t sleep at all!”

There’s a beat of silence. Maybe three. Gwen stares at the ex-mercenary lying at her feet and she just… stares at him. Because he—“How long have you been awake?”

“A day and two hours!”

“Shit, Deadpool-“

“- hey! You swore! You never swear!”

“I _do,_! You’ve heard me swear before! I just don’t like it doing it around Spider-man, y'know? It’s not like he tells me not to do it,” she reassures, “it just feels weird to swear around a guy who never swears.”

“… Point made! Still doesn't stop ya sometimes.”

Ever so gently, Gwen kicks at Deadpool’s side and he rolls over and gasps dramatically, letting free exaggerated moans and groans alongside promises to _get “revenge on you, you pesky spiders!”_ and she shakes her head at his antics. “Don’t you need sleep any time soon, Deadpool?”

He’s quiet at that and sits up, looks at her with his knees drawn and arms draping over his knees, and Deadpool shakes his head. “I’ll be _fine_ Spiduh. Isn’t my first time not sleeping for days! You kinda have to for some of my missions—not that I really _take_ 'em I mean; I don’t kill people often anymore-“

“ _Often.”_

“Often! But seriously, I’m not taking any of my hardcore missions anymore. You gotta believe me!”

“Uh-huh. Deadpool, you’re stalling.”

“Yes, yes I am, and I’d like to continue stalling?”

“Nope. Permission denied.”

Deadpool slumps his shoulders. “Sometimes, you and you spiders are way too assertive. Which, tuhuuhuuhuuurn oooon! But seriously, I’ll be absolutely fine. Grade A plus fine, really. Actually, I was hoping you’d be up at some point in the morning so that I could talk to you about…” he gestures a bit, though Gwen notes that it’s not like his normal, frantic gesticulations. “A job offer-“

At that, Gwen falls into a crouch next to Deadpool almost immediately and smacks his shoulder. “How many times have I told you already? Have _we_ told you already, actually.” She says, trying to perhaps stop the conversation from going any further than it has to; not because she gets bothered by it like Peter does, but because she’s heard this whole thing before.

Where Gwen is more patient, Peter always gets so sharp about this with Deadpool, and… honestly, Gwen doesn’t blame him.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to give up!” Deadpool shoots back, breaking her train of thought, and she looks at him patiently. “I don’t get why you’re working for that damn rich Parker brat! Is it the money? I could get you and Spider-man spider-caves! I can totally do it! I’ll get you both whatever supplies you need, just _stop working for that brat!”_

Yeah. Gwen can’t blame Peter for getting sharp and mad when his character is – unwittingly – being dragged through the dirt.

“You don’t know anything about Peter Parker.” Gwen says. “He got rich in one night. So what? He’s not a bad person; he’s just kind of… airheaded sometimes.” Gwen says and shakes her head, imagining the ways Peter will sputter at her for calling him airheaded.  “A genius, but a horribly airheaded one. He’s not that bad of a guy.”

There’s something in the way that Deadpool stares at her; dark and pointed, as though she’s a horribly naïve child that doesn’t understand why mommy and daddy fight every day, and Gwen tries not to think about what it means.

“I still want you to join the mercs for money. I don’t think you’re getting the full picture of what kind of person Peter Parker is, and I’m not gonna hold it against you, babe. He musta done something reeeeal great for you two to trust him so much.” Deadpool hisses out, something harsh in his words, and Gwen looks at him blankly.

 _‘Yeah.’_ she thinks, more reserved than upset or bitter, _‘he did something better than you can ever imagine, Deadpool. I’m just sad you don’t know.’_

“Listen, Pool…” Gwen sighs. “If you wanna keep trying? Fine. Go for it, I can’t stop you and I won’t force you to. You’re your own person.” The whites of Deadpool’s mask grow extremely wide, and Gwen is almost disappointed that they don’t take over the black entirely. “Just don’t tell this to Spider-man, okay? He’ll totally lose his shit over this.” _‘Again, not that I blame him.’_ “He’s closer to Peter Parker than I am and you’ll ruin his mood entirely. So, don’t do it, okay? We have a date today.”

Deadpool’s quiet and Gwen decides to look away from him to instead focus on the sky. There are no clouds out right now, and it’s just a clear, beautiful glow that makes Gwen consider taking Peter out on a picnic date today—if they have the time for it. Peter and her really need some time together; they have been having nothing but stress lately, and Gwen rubs at her covered face.

She kind of wishes that Deadpool isn’t here right now just so that she can at least enjoy the sun on her face while she’s up so high, being the hero and yet being herself at the same time.

Secret identities are so difficult, yet absolutely necessary for people like her and Peter.

“I ain’t promisin’ anything.” Deadpool says after a while, and Gwen looks back at him only to see that he has been staring at her very intently. “There are things I gotta tell Spidey, and well, I wanna say sorry for the fact that I might not close my mouth near Spidey, buuuut-“

“But you’re the merc with the mouth.” She finishes for him, and Deadpool pats her shoulder and huh. Has anyone ever told Deadpool that he’s huge? Because he is. “Your funeral, then. I ain’t gonna promise that Spidey’s gonna take it well.” With that, she stands up and stretches her arms and legs, making a weird, high-pitched sound as she does and she offers her hand to Deadpool. “Anyway, I’m bettin’ we have twenty minutes before some a-hole decides to be a criminal, so admire the morning with me a bit, you nerd.”

“Why, Siduh-gal! I thought you knew me better than to call me a nerd! I am a badass! A badass motherfucker! BAMF! You should call me a bamf!”

He takes her hand and oofs as Gwen pulls him up so that he can look down at her, his eyes so wide and expressive with the mask and she reaches up to pet his cheek. Turning on her heels, she goes back to the edge of the roof again and falls down into a crouch, and she doesn’t even look next to her as Deadpool sits next to her.

New York is really pretty in the mornings; even if she can’t help but feel… well, _salty_ for the lack of a better term over all the villains all the damn time.

It’s a pity that Peter has to bury himself in work so much so, but she reaches down to text him a reminder for their date and she nearly kicks Deadpool off when he tries to peek at her phone.

“I haven’t killed anyone before, especially on purpose.” Gwen says blankly as she shoves his face away instead. “And I’m not gonna start today, even if you can’t die, so chill.”

 

 

When she checks on her phone half an hour later, Deadpool going on and on about a show in the… well, shit, Gwen has lost track of what he’s talking about, it’s to see a text from Peter saying that he’ll be out by noon. She looks over to Deadpool, who’s rambling about… how he doesn’t actually like chimichangas, and that the word is just an awesome word, and waits for a pause in Deadpool’s talking so that Gwen herself can speak up.

It’s not that she doesn’t want to interrupt him – she can more than easily do that – it’s just that she’s actually enjoying the absurdly deep analysis that Deadpool is putting into Taco Bell, of all things. “So,” she says finally when it seems that Deadpool isn’t stopping any time soon, “you wanna join me on patrol? Spidey’s not gonna be around ‘til noon.”

He practically glows at Gwen’s words. “Oh Spiduh, do I ever! Do I get to ride on you? Ohhh, do I? Do I? I’d love to _ride_ if you get what I mean, ehhh?”

“I get what ya mean all too well, Pool, and you _know_ the answer is always yes.” She turns around and presents her back to him, her hands settling down near her bottom so that he can support him when he gets on her back. “Hop on, you and I are gonna kick ass. Without killing.”

Gwen braces herself and only lets out a soft oof as Deadpool clings to her like a koala, his body heavy yet an easy weight to lift as she stands up. She grabs his legs and manoeuvres them a bit higher around her and checks her web cartridges immediately afterwards before Gwen points at a random direction and webs them away.

The squeal that Deadpool lets out is always a delight, and Gwen laughs alongside his excited giggling. She swings down real low, near the streets and past a bunch of folk in a flash of black, red and white, her legs pressed against each other and straight forward to allow herself to ‘glide’ in the air before her body relaxes and she’s shooting another web out.

She starts swinging seriously after that bit of fun, making sure that Deadpool and her have good views of the alleyways around them as they patrol together, and the background noise that he provides isn’t… really helpful, if Gwen is going to be honest, but it’s better than the sound of the ever awake city.

Now if only Peter isn’t always so guarded around Deadpool, then she’s sure that all three of them can be as close to a ‘dream team’ as one can be.

 

 

 

Much to her surprise, Deadpool sticks with her throughout all of the patrolling. They stop at some point to go to a coffee shop and Gwen gets herself an iced mocha while Deadpool gets hot chocolate and a lot of doughnuts for them both. She shrugs at it, makes Deadpool hold everything, and then picks him up and holds him against her side as she webs them up to a building and climbs up to the roof.

“You didn’t wanna stay in the café?” Deadpool asks and Gwen just shakes her head as she rolls her mask up to sip her iced mocha.

Other than that, they spend most of their time just swinging around until Gwen decides that they can slack off for an hour or so, that is until Peter texts her to ask her where she is and she gives him an answer immediately afterwards.

“Spidey’s coming.” Gwen says and Deadpool starts to practically vibrate with excitement next to her before he seems to apparently turn off his vibrate mode (oh that just sounds wrong). “What’s the matter?”

“We didn’t meet up on our usual building!”

She smacks him.

Ten minutes later, Peter arrives and flies over their heads and Deadpool squees like a fanboy at the sight. “Alright— I’m here.” He announces, his hands resting on his hips and he stares up at both Deadpool and Gwen when they stride up next to him. “Don’t lean on me.” He says pointedly and Deadpool snickers. “Do either of you have any clue what’cha wanna do?”

“Well, baby boy, I have an entire _list_ of things I’d love to do with you and Spider-gal—most of which involve very _adult_ things, and some of which are domestic. One includes going back to my place and having a party—“

“Deadpool, I would really appreciate not knowing your fantasies—“

“But I’m talking the domestic ones right now!”

“Dirty or domestic, doesn’t matter.”

“You are _such_ a party pooper, you know that?” Deadpool slumps dramatically and he bends down slightly to tap his forehead against the side of Peter’s head and Gwen stands in front of them both with her arms crossed in front of her, amusement clear in her stance. “Spider-gal would listen to my fantasies, right?”

Gwen shrugs her shoulders. “Sorry Pool, but I gotta say no.”

He gasps, horrified, and gives her an accusatory point. “Traitor! I thought you loved me!”

“Sometimes, I feel like you’re trying to steal my girlfriend.” Peter pipes up, and Deadpool coos and croons at him and Gwen can practically see the way Peter’s eye twitches. “Deadpool, _stop that._ Seriously—I was actually… Deadpool, don’t let this get to your head, what I’m about to say, I mean. I was actually looking _forward_ to us… hanging out.”

“Date.” Gwen corrects. “We’re on a date. With Deadpool.”

“As acquaintances.” Peter adds. “Deadpool and us. I mean. Not—not you and I. You and I are like, beyond that—absolutely—I sound dumb right now, don’t I?”

She’s about to say something when Deadpool gasps dramatically and jerks away from Peter, his hands on his cheeks and he looks awfully scandalised for someone who… has nothing happen to him. “I forgot the most important part of the date!” he takes his backpack off, then, and runs off so that he’s not in view anymore and Gwen can practically feel Peter’s glare her way.

“What? I didn’t tell him to do it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He’s still glaring at her, and he only stops when Deadpool lets out a loud ‘TA-DA!’ when he jumps into view again and he’s wearing—

“DEADPOOL!” Peter practically shrieks at the sight of Deadpool in a frilly pink, strawberry patterned maid dress and Gwen snorts. “Why are you—why are you wearing a dress?! What the hay pile!”

Deadpool clasps his hands together, eyes wide and hearts practically floating around his head and Gwen considers this a great date already, so far. “Because it’s a date with my two favourite Spiders! What other time is a good time to wear a dress?! Not that wearing a dress has to be special!” Saying that, he brings one of his hands up to his forehead in a peace sign and holds one leg up, bent, as he poses and he closes one of his eyes in an attempt to maximise the cuteness factor. “Aren’t I adorable?”

“No!” Peter yells at the same time that Gwen yells “Yes!” and he gives her such a betrayed look that she _almost_ feels bad. “Traitor!”

“Deadpool’s always looked cute in a dress! Remember that time he wore the French maid one? That one was _adorable_ and I am very disappointed I haven’t seen it more often.”

“There is nothing to be disappointed about!”

“You’re just in denial that he looks good in a dress.” Gwen points out, and she can practically see the blush underneath Peter’s mask and the groan he lets out is so overdramatic that she can’t help but love him.

He crosses his arms and huffs, having given up to the idea that he’ll ever win against these two and he shakes his head. “Whatever! Can we just—can we just go already? I don’t know! Let’s go to McDonalds or-“

“Blasphemy! We’re not going to MacDonaldoes!” Deadpool interrupts, no longer posing as he smooths his dress out, and they can practically see his large grin behind his mask—it doesn’t even have a mouth. She doesn’t… get… it. “We’re going to Subways instead!”

There’s a moment of silence, and Deadpool’s still grinning.

“Why did you call it MacDonaldoes?” Peter asks.

“That’s how they say it in _Canada!_ ” Deadpool answers.

“Where’s Wolverine when you need him.” Peter says, in a deadpan, and he sighs. “C’mon, let’s go to Subways already before I feel like gouging my eyes out.”

“YATTA!”

“Stop.”

 

 

The trip to Subways is surprisingly uneventful. Peter still doesn’t carry Deadpool around, much to the merc’s disappointed, but he’s more than happy to be carried by Gwen as they swing. After the whole shebang on the roof, Peter’s surprisingly quiet and Gwen side-eyes him constantly.

Something must have happened at the building, and she makes a mental note to ask him about it later when he’s hopefully not overly busy and stressing over something else. “There it is!” Deadpool calls out and they both land on their feet with the grace that’ll make a cat jealous, and he claps for Gwen and Peter enthusiastically when they make their landing.

Gwen gets herself an Italian BMT, Deadpool gets himself _several_ different sandwiches (she remembers Deadpool telling them that “My healing factor always makes me super hungry!” once, to explain why he eats a lot, and Peter later confirms it’s true while still trying to figure out the theory behind the healing factor), and Peter simply has a steak and cheese sandwich.

“What’s the one thing ya don’t eat, Spidey?” Deadpool ends up asking out of the blue at some point when Peter is just nibbling on his sandwich, deep in thought about something or another, and Gwen looks at them both sharply just to make sure nothing goes wrong. “I gotta make sure so that if I ever make ya breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, that I don’t give you something that disgusts you! I gotta be a good wife-“

“Deadpool,” Peter says, exasperated, “we’re not married.”

“ _Yet._ ”

“Ever!”

“But you didn’t say no to me making food for you!”

He shifts a little bit, and Gwen fiddles with her thumbs when Peter merely shakes his head; she puts her hand on his back when he slumps, rubs his shoulders quickly, and he straightens up in surprise. “I’m not going to say no to your hospitality. And for your information,” Peter says with a squeaky voice, “I don’t eat pork. At all.”

Deadpool gives a slow blink. “You don’t?”

“Nope.”

“But I’ve seen you eat meals with pork before!”

“Substituted them with chicken or beef.” Peter says before he goes back to eating his sandwich, and Deadpool leans back a bit and nearly falls in his attempt to digest that – and the five sandwiches he has eaten – bit of information and Gwen relaxes.

After a while, they settle back to eating – or rather, Deadpool does, and Gwen and Peter just relax next to each other [eating on the roof, again, mostly because they don’t want Deadpool to reveal his face in public if he doesn’t want to]. Peter leans against Gwen after a while, trying to snuggle up against her, and she wraps one arm around him and rubs his side soothingly.

“You doin’ okay?” Gwen whispers, and Peter hums and nods. “Talk to me ‘bout some stuff I missed when we’re done here.” She says, sternly, and Peter murmurs his agreement.  

It’s only when Deadpool’s done eating that things go a bit… downwards. He’s sitting up, looking serious even in his cute as hell dress, and Peter is suddenly not so relaxed anymore. “I know I’ve asked you two this already,” Deadpool says, something dark curling in his voice, “but I think you both should still work for mercs for money.”

Peter seems to snap up straight, back ramrod and something tense and shaky in his form. “Deadpool, I _can’t_ join your mercs for money. I work for Parker industries, and I can’t just quit. Deadpool, you’ve offered this before, and I’ve said _no_ every time-“

“What do you _see_ in that guy?” Deadpool hisses out, and Gwen grabs at Peter’s elbow to make sure he doesn’t do anything. “He’s basically a poor man’s Tony Stark!”

“He’s _nothing_ like Tony Stark!” Peter yells, and Gwen has to yank him back to keep him from trying to sit up and properly yell at Deadpool. “Tony Stark’s—Tony Stark’s a gosh darn, self-righteous jerk who is an arrogant, playboy, pompous—“

“And what makes Peter Parker any different, huh? You don’t know _anything_ about that kid, I bet! Probably has a tonna shady shit hidin’ in his background and deep in his company you don’t know about!” Deadpool’s yelling, but he isn’t sitting up, threatening, or anything; if anything, it’s scarier to see him sit patiently, staring and glaring into Peter than it is to see him standing up with his guns. “How are you so sure that Peter Parker’s a good person, huh?”

“I just—I know him! I _know_ Peter; he confides in everything to me. I’ve been with him—constantly. You don’t know him like I do!” he argues back, and Gwen shakes her head.

She claps her hands together, loudly, and interrupts Deadpool before he can say something to _really_ rile Peter up and she shifts around. “Whatever issue you have with Parker… can wait. Right now, we’re not here for _business_ business, and we’re gonna be doing hero business soon enough. We’ll talk about this like _adults_ later.”

They don’t really… settle after that, and Peter is still very tense and Deadpool is quiet, glaring, his maid dress having been discarded at some point and Gwen rubs at her forehead as she feels a headache slowly start to develop.

She doesn’t know why Deadpool is so… embittered when it comes to Peter Parker. This is definitely something that warrants investigating and questioning, if Deadpool will let her.

For all his silliness, he’s still a mercenary. It can wait for some other day.

“Let’s go on patrol.” Peter says, suddenly. “Deadpool, you’re joining us. Let’s go.”

At least it’s a distraction.

(They don’t really fight any big bad guys; just a couple of common crooks that Deadpool complains are no challenge, and Gwen and Peter agree, though the Spider-duo are much happier being able to stop crime regardless of how difficult they are. Deadpool looks at them with awe.)


	3. Of all the things to happen, this is expected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that issue #8
> 
>  
> 
> I'm a bit fucked up over that

It’s exactly a week after the date, and things have settled down between the three of them again. Considerably, at least, or Gwen likes to say everything has calmed down considerably. Peter’s doing better after that little outburst, and they’re still patrolling New York as normal. “It’s been weirdly quiet around here, lately.” Gwen comments as Peter and her swing past each other in an ‘X’ formation before swinging side by side, and he looks at her before looking forward once more. “I mean, maybe it’s ‘cause the Avengers have been helping out-“ Peter snorts at that. “-but it feels weirdly… emptier, lately.”

“About that. The Avengers actually contacted me lately about the lack of supervillains. They’ve been dealing with their own recurring villains hiding in other countries and cities – which, fine by me, I really rather not help them – but they’ve no clue what’s goin’ on _here._ ”

“Do you think that they’re just taking a break for a bit?” she asks, and Peter swings over to a building and sticks to it on all fours, while Gwen sticks next to him with her back against the wall. “You know they’ve _definitely_ done that before. Remember that time they all just took a vacation to some island near Canada?”

Peter groans. “Don’t remind me. It was the most confusing time of my life, and I wholly blame SHIELD for that one.”

“Maybe they went back to that island again? We’re not legally allowed to bother them if they went back…”

“… It’s not really even legal. We just had a very secretive agreement that we ain’t gonna bother them.” Peter points out as he enters a squat, braces himself, and then jumps off so that he can begin swinging again, and Gwen grins as she pushes herself, lets herself fall freely for only a little bit before she webs after Peter, flying on above him so that they’re approximately on even ‘grounds’. “You really need to stop fallin’ and webbin’, it terrifies me. Anyway, it’s… kinda peaceful with the villains on vacation. Not gonna lie. It’s… nice.”

“Agreed!” Gwen calls out as she ends up in front of Peter, twirling in the air just to show off a bit before she continues webbing normally, a smile on her face at the little noise that he makes when he witnesses her at her greatest.

But what Peter is saying is true—it’s peaceful, for once, and Gwen isn’t going to lie; she likes it, though it’s also driving her mad with boredom… in a sense. It’s not that she enjoys the violence; she doesn’t, but this is something that has become routine for her. It’s the stress relief she needs after being employed at Parker industries as one of the ‘founders’, to say the least, and to not have any villains show up is kind of a bother.

Though she knows Peter won’t admit it, Gwen feels almost a little worried that not of the villains are around. It’s almost as if what is normal is being broken, and sometimes she wonders if they’re actually planning something big or evil. They always want to do something out of the ordinary, something huge enough that will result in the deaths of all the heroes, or something.

She really wonders why villains are very… them. Villainous. Well, they are _villains,_ but why? Maybe she wonders too much about stuff like that. Why didn’t she take psychology when she had the chance?

“I kinda miss ‘em.” Peter says, breaking Gwen out of her thoughts, and she glances at him before looking straight ahead. “Not Doc Ock though. I do not miss that guy. _Or_ the Green Goblin.”

“You miss Black Cat, don’t you?”

“What! Noooo!” Yep, Peter is definitely blushing underneath his mask if his sudden loss of webbing indicates anything. She catches him before he can shoot off another web and presses him against her side, carrying them both away. “Okay, yes, I kinda miss her, but you do too!”

Gwen hums. “Yes, but I’m more open about it than you are. I miss Doc Connors, though.”

“Me t- can you please put me down?” Peter complains as Gwen manages to fly up high enough to land on a random roof and he wriggles against her side. “I can swing by myself!”

“I know.”

“… you’re still holding me up.”

She unceremoniously drops him down onto his face and Peter manages to catch himself before he falls flat onto his face, and Gwen whistles innocuously. “Not anymore I’m not!”

“You are the worst.”

“But you love me.”

He stands up and stretches his legs, looks at Gwen, and nods. “You’re still a pain to be with. I really should’ve gone out with that fly that tried to date me once.”

“That fly was in your _nightmares._ ”

“My nightmares are less evil than you.”

“Pfff.” Gwen shakes her head. “Liar. I’m the greatest thing in your life.” Peter turns to face her properly and he reaches up to flutter her hood with one hand while he uses the other to raise the lower half of his mask. He does the same for Gwen and she bends down to kiss him.

He places his hands on her shoulders and leans back to look up into her and grins. “You are.” He says, so sincerely and lovingly, that Gwen snorts and flushes in embarrassment. “Let’s stop for some pizza then we can keep going and stop anyone wrong doer along the way.”

“Sure.” Gwen says with a smile, lowering her mask and Peter follows her example. As though practiced, the both of them launch off of the roof and swing away, swinging past a few star-struck civilians in the process.

 

 

It’s only a minute after they have had their pizza that they hear a commotion a good distance away. They look at each other, bellies full, and they roll their masks down. “We’re gonna have a really bad belly ache.” Peter says.

“Crime never sleeps!” Gwen says cheerfully.

 

It takes them some time to actually get to the area with all of the destruction going on, and Peter nearly falls down to his death when a stray blaster shot, eerily similar to Iron Man’s own one, tears through his webbing. “What?” he asks, webbing away immediately afterwards and Gwen dives away when a blaster shot nearly hits her side. “Is Iron Man here?! Is he _trying_ to kill us?”

She sticks to a side of a building while Peter swings around and joins her only moments later, crawling over to her and he squats. “Good news: it’s not Iron Man.”

“He isn’t there?” Gwen asks incredulously. “Does that mean that someone stole his equipment?”

“Doubt it—“ they both leap away immediately when their Spider-senses go on the fritz, avoiding another harsh blast that is sent their way. He catches her, hand grabbing her forearm and holding her for a bit and Gwen aims at a faraway building with her free hand and webs them both away. “Do you think he’s even _aiming_ at us, whoever it is?”

Gwen squints and crawls around the building, peeking over to check and she narrows her eyes—even if no one can see it—when she catches sight of someone floundering around with Iron Man tech… that looks _old_.

Whoever it is who is attacking seems… clueless. She can’t make his or her expression out from where she is, and even if she can there is still the fact that the unknown assailant is wearing a mask. They’re wearing some sort of gauntlet and Gwen winces as the attacker fires off and suffers from a really, really bad recoil.

“Well, I can tell you one thing for certain,” Gwen calls out, “they’re awful and they don’t seem to even know we’re here. We should probably get to it before someone, you know, _dies.”_

“We need to ambush ‘em.”  Peter says. “We need to get the—what are they using?”

“A gauntlet.”

“Got’cha. We need to get the gauntlet off of them so that they can’t use it anymore, and then we need to take them out after we’ve made sure that the weapon isn’t in range of anybody.”

“You can attack them from behind and I can attack them from the front—I need you to yank them back while I web the gauntlet off of them. If we’re fast enough, we can throw them off and I’ll be able to make a webbie-bag—don’t look at me like that! That is totally what it is.”

Peter groans in suffering. “Please just keep at it, Gwen.”

“Rude! Anyway- I’ll have the gauntlet stashed away in a webbie-bag and then we can deal with the crook if we need to. That a plan?”

“Sounds good to me.” They fistbump one another before they swing off in opposite directions, having to stay apart for this to work, and Gwen almost wishes that Peter has finished up making the stealth suit – though she’s not entirely sure how it’ll help.

So far, from what she has seen, the suit is meant to be used in the dark and for work and criminals that work at the darkest night. Maybe there’s something else about it that can be helpful, though Gwen isn’t going to waste her time trying to figure out what when she still has a confused yet murderous person trying to apparently kill off a ton of people at…

Huh, not a bank… but, from what Gwen can vaguely remember, some sort of government-owned company. She _thinks_ it’s some sort of pharmaceutical company, but she’ll bring that up with Peter later once the assailant has been properly dealt with. She falls down behind a car and crouches, peeking over to check for where Peter is, and she catches sight of him swinging in through a broken window and hiding quickly before the attacker can see him.

Well, it’s time to attack and hope to god that nothing else goes wrong.

 

 

Except they can’t be that lucky. Someone catches sight of Gwen just as she moves out to leap and scare the hell out of the attacker and they immediately yell out her name – “SPIDER-GAL! SPIDER-GAL IS HERE! WE’RE SAFE!” – and their plan is immediately put into shambles. Despite their clumsiness with the gauntlet, the person turns to face Gwen and they spread their palm, energy building up and her Spider-sense goes absolutely wild with danger.

She ducks and leaps towards a few civilians to get them out of the blast at the same time that Peter slams down on the assailant from above, kicking them away and managing to backflip back onto his feet. “I feel like this is somehow my fault.” Peter yells out and Gwen just rolls her eyes as she jumps her way over to the attacker.

Before they can gather up the energy to blast them again, she grabs the wrist with the gauntlet and punches the masked attacker with her free hand. Very quickly, she knees the assailant and then kicks them away, reaches behind her as swiftly as she can and – with a satisfying ‘thwip’ – flies off with her grip tightly on the gauntlet—

And to her relief, the gauntlet actually slides off with the force of her flying away. Peter arrives moments later and webs the attacker up, leaves them hanging, and Gwen slides down so that she can write their usual note with him.

“So what do you think that was all about?” Peter says as he places the sticky note saying _‘we nabbed ur crook_ **you can pay us back with gummy bears –** _contact avengers immediately,_ _your friendly neighbourhood spider-man_ **and spider-gal!’** on the bad guy. “Like, that gauntlet looks… bulky as heck.”

She glances down to the gauntlet in her hands and looks over it; it is very thick, actually, and annoyingly heavy in her grip. It’s more rectangular than it is sleek when she turns the device over and it’s clearly Stark-tech despite how old it looks. “I have no clue. They weren’t exactly talking, and we didn’t give them a chance to either.” She says, quickly making a little web-satchel to put the gauntlet in so that it’s easier to carry around while she’s being an amazing Spider-gal.

“They looked really out of their element.” Peter continues as Gwen and he both shoot off and swing away. “Like, if you thrust someone who has never did improv before and told them to entertain while they waited for the half an hour late actor or something.”

She hums. “Maybe it was some dumb sap who managed to stumble upon Stark tech and tried to use it to be a robber or something, but they weren’t able to get a hang of it?”

“It’s only a tiny part of the Iron Man suit too; maybe that was why they were out of balance with it all?”

“That doesn’t explain why the blasts were as strong as the new tech. You can’t tell me that old will be as strong as new, can you?”

Peter is quiet for a bit and Gwen looks down at the satchel she’s made. “I think someone has definitely tinkered with it.” Gwen says when Peter is still busy thinking, and he glances over at her briefly. “But, how did they even get access to it? Where the hell is Stark industries putting their old as shit technology that anyone can pick it up?”

“ _You_ can ask the man, the hotshot yourself. I’m going back to work, and you can give his tech back to him so that he can see how it was tampered, why, and what was done to it because I am _not_ talking to Tony Stark today, thank you.”

At that, Peter completely goes the other way and Gwen lands on a roof to watch him leave, and she blinks owlishly. She looks down at the satchel one more time, considers what Peter has told her, and she sighs when Peter doesn’t come back to tell her that it’s all a joke and that he’ll happily come with her to talk to the Stark CEO.

 _‘Damn it Parker.’_ Gwen thinks before she departs for Stark towers.

 

 

Climbing Stark tower is like going up and down a thousand stairs, even though Gwen is lucky enough that she doesn’t need to climb that much. Still; it’s annoying to climb up the tower, trying to find where Tony Stark is, and the stares she gets just makes her feel really agitated.

What, haven’t they seen a friendly neighbourhood wall crawler before? Plebeians! Spider-gal and Spider-man have merch and everything, too! How can they not know who she is, or at least haven’t seen her crawl around on walls like a five-foot eleven-inch tall spider, which she is.

She knocks on the windows at some point and steps (rather, crawls) back so that they can open it and talk to her properly. “I don’t suppose any of ya know where Tony Stark is, do you? I have something of his to return.”

“T-top floor. Very top. He came down here only for a little bit then went back to the top to work.” One of them answers and Gwen gives him a thumbs up.

“Thanks! Anyway, I’m off now. You all work hard, stay safe, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, don’t make me come after you, the usual. Ciao!”

There’s more climbing and Gwen practically bangs on Tony Stark’s window when she sees him, and she yelps when the window opens on its own. “Huh, is this because of JARVIS?” she asks as she slinks in, her hand holding the slowly dissolving satchel up and Gwen straightens up when she catches sight of Tony staring at her with his arms crossed and one eyebrow arched.

“I was the one to open the window for you, Ms. Spider-gal.” a cool and collected voice says, and Gwen lets out a soft ‘huh, cool’ before she grabs the gauntlet and throws it right at Tony.

It’s bizarrely cathartic to see him widen his eyes in surprise and then reach out, last second, to actually catch the thing. “What did—JARVIS, run a quick scan on this because if this is—“

“It is one of your technological creations, sir.” JARVIS says immediately afterwards and Gwen taps her foot as she waits for Tony to stop looking at the object in his hands like he is given a baby he doesn’t necessarily know what to do with nor want to do anything with.

Babies are precious, but difficult and hoo boy Gwen does not want one any time soon, especially with the life she leads. “Where did you get this?”

“So you know that attack earlier, that Spider-man and I took care of?”

“Ah yes, the menaces in cahoots with a criminal, and how their plan was to make them seem even better to the public eye—does that news company ever get tired of ragging on you two? You think they’d grow bored, unless this is some sort of _thrill_ for you both.”

Gwen glares at him, and then launches a small ball of web at his shin when the glare – obviously – has no affect. “AH! Son of a bi-“

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…”

“Hey kid, you asked a question and I answered, can’t fault me for that.”

“I swear I’ll web you in the dick if you don’t let me finish talking.” Instinctively, one of Tony’s hands comes down to protect his crotch, a look of horror briefly on his face and Gwen giggles. “The bad guy we nabbed there had that glove in your hand, and they’re currently with the police and hopefully being handed over to the Avengers.”

He looks up at the ceiling and Gwen follows his gaze, trying to see what he’s looking at, before shrugging and looking back down and Tony still has his head in the clouds. “Smart move. The Avengers, including Iron Man of course, will work this all out.”  He looks back at her, finally. “You and Spider-man gonna-“

“Help the Avengers? Uh… that’s a maybe. I mean, we _do_ have a sort of, thing, to do with this because you know, thing, we got it, we stopped it. Bam bam, done.” She punches her own fist a few times as though to give Tony visuals, though he only raises his eyebrow at that. “But whether or not we put too much personal stake in this is debatable.”

She steps aside and allows Tony to put the gauntlet on his desk before he turns around to face her, his hands grabbing the table behind him. “You and Spider-man are very… aggressive when it comes to helping the Avengers, aren’t you?”

“We’re not _aggressive.”_ Gwen protests. “It just… won’t work out. Trust me. Maybe if they actually _recruited_ Deadpool-“

“Isn’t he an honorary Avenger?”

Gwen pauses a bit, her hands resting low on her hips, and she paces around a little bit. “I… think so? I don’t entirely know, because Deadpool talks a lot – I don’t know if you’ve ever met him…”

“Iron Man has. He says he doesn’t shut his damn mouth.”

“He’s called the merc with the mouth for a reason! But, no, really. Spider-man and I are probably never gonna join the Avengers. Wait, I didn’t come here for that! Stop distracting me, shit. I came here because I needed to ask you where the hell you’re storing your creations if people can just easily snatch them up.”

The grip Tony has on his table is deathly, and Gwen is grateful that the man doesn’t seem to have the ability to break the border with his hands. That’ll hurt. Pretty badly. She’s accidentally broken wood in her hands before—that shit hurts so badly… even if the pain does pale in comparison to all the other stuff she has gone through as a Spider.

Before her, Tony inhales sharply through his nose. “Here’s the thing, kid,” Tony finally says, “I’ve hidden them along one of my beaches in an underground base. No one but me should be able to get in there.”

“Soooo wait… your bodyguard’s _suits_ are hidden in a beach?”

“Only the decommissioned ones, or the ones deemed unfit for current day battle. Nothing good should be there.”

“But this thing was hitting almost as hard as Iron Man is today!”

At that, Tony seems to tense up and he stares at her with an expression that Gwen can’t entirely understand. It seems to be the mix of agitation and something else, perhaps a sort of dawning realisation, but Gwen doesn’t push and instead, watches him pace away and bark orders at JARVIS for a bit.

Whatever it is that he’s doing, Tony doesn’t deem it necessary to tell her and Gwen wanders around the overly roomy office until he’s done. It’s nothing at all like Peter’s office at Parker industries – his is a fainter, paler pink, almost pastel, in comparison to Tony’s – and she moves along the sleek and minimalistic looking place.

It’s actually really nice, even if she does prefer the pale pinkness over at Parker’s more – it’s mostly because she’s used to that one, Gwen thinks, and she jumps when Tony slams his hands down on his table to get her attention. “Wh-“

“Someone—someone apparently broke in and I _never realised it…_ listen, kiddo, I appreciate your help and all, but you can go back to Spider-man and to your boss, Peter Parker, and tell them that we’ll take care of it from here and that we will _absolutely_ make sure nothing else happens.”

She lingers for a little bit, stares at Tony Stark and takes in how he goes back to busying himself with his various computers, talking back and forth with JARVIS, and then leaves finally when Tony seems to have completely ignored Gwen.

Peter will probably want to see her again after this. Hopefully, he’s doing pretty okay.

 

 

When she gets back, she changes into her civvies and breathes a sigh of relief as she’s _finally_ out of her costume. Sure, Gwen absolutely loves her costume (given that it’s her own design, of course she loves it! She loves it even more because Peter is matching with her), but it’s an added _relief_ to be able to finally get out of the thing, put aside her responsibilities for a little bit, and breathe…

… and then begin her responsibilities as an employee in Parker industries as the chair of board, but hey! You can’t win them all. At least she doesn’t have to worry about life or death while she’s in the company—just about whether or not she can get everything to not be a mess.

It takes her some time wandering around the building – checking up on everyone, making sure work is going swimmingly, the general things – before she finds Peter and Anna Maria together, talking about something that seems to have him looking absolutely embarrassed.

“Yo!” Gwen calls out, interrupting their conversation, and both Anna and Peter turn to face her, with a nod from the former and a big grin from the latter. “What’re you two talkin’ about?”

“Charity.” Anna says. “Peter wants to have an event there to be able to fund the cancer research in China, and we’re just trying to figure out when to go there and who to take with us.”

“Gwen’s coming.” Peter blurts out before either of them can say anything, and Anna gives him an odd… look, as it is, and Gwen shakes her head. “I mean, I know I shouldn’t play favourites but given our…” he looks side to side, “our other jobs, it’d be nice to have her around. I’m completely used to her being around, always being at my side, supporting me! It makes absolute sense that I’d, you know… bring her along.”

It’s a flimsy excuse at best, and Peter seems to be completely aware of it as he flushes even darker from the stare that Anna is giving him, and he absolutely avoids looking into Gwen’s eyes because she knows that he’s _aware,_ absolutely _aware,_ that she’s eating this all up.

What a dork. She loves him.

“The fact that you haven’t married her yet is a surprise to me.” Anna says blankly; she turns to face Gwen, then, and gives her a smile. “Were you able to get anything from Stark?”

Ah, yes, good. So Peter has told her already about what happened earlier. Good. She doesn’t have to explain now, because Gwen is _superbly bad_ at that. Not at her job, luckily, but just at her Spider-gal business. “We’re gonna have to leave it to the Avengers for now.” Gwen says, quietly, so that no one hears them even if no one is really around.

You never know! The walls have ears, and all that.

“Someone broke into the place where Stark put all his decommissioned suits. For now, we don’t have to do anything about it and it should, hopefully, be in the hands of the Avengers.”

When Peter speaks, it’s with a cool voice and an absolutely neutral expression. “It’s their problem, anyway. If Iron Man’s previous equipment is being stolen, then he needs to take responsibility for it.” His expression changes immediately after that, a smile on his face once more. “Anyway, Anna, Gwen, we need to discuss some things – both work and _other_ related – so… let’s walk! Outside, in the building, whatever.”

“We’re going outside.” Anna pipes up, and Gwen just nods. “I’ve been in this building all day. You both could do with going to the park. Or rather, _I_ could.”

“Out we go then!” Gwen says, her arm wrapping around Peter as she presses him close, and he snorts in amusement. “Come, my bossy friend and my dear boss, we’ve business to talk and a company to run.”

With that said and done, they head out with Gwen tuning in and out of  the conversation that is going on around her as she can’t help but feel like that gauntlet is going to come bite them all in the ass later, even if it is in Tony Stark’s hands currently.

She really, really hates her intuition.


	4. Maybe you should cool it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how do people drink beer

Gwen isn’t with him today; or, rather, she’s busy somewhere else, having been contacted before Peter for an ‘emergency’ or whatnot and he assumes it has something to do with the fact that there are large groups of thugs showing up lately. The police have their hands full, and Peter ends up being late so she goes on without him and he doesn’t mind.

It gives him some time to clear his head, even though he knows that Gwen will more than willingly leave him alone for a bit if he needs it. She’s far too good for him that way. Peter hums to himself, bobbing his head as he webs one at a time with each hand—though, maybe he really needs to stop bobbing his head because he’s having a pretty awful headache right now.

Maybe he’s been working too much and sleeping too little. He actually really wants to barf about now, so he inhales and tries to swallow down the bile that rises and instead sticks on to a side of a building, slowly crawls up, and settles down when he’s at the top and slumps his shoulders.

He closes his eyes and winces at the dizzying feeling that hangs heavy over his head. … Wait, did he remember to eat today?

… No, no he hasn’t. Oh, that explains everything; yeah. He’s a big idiot. He looks down at the long, long drop down to the streets and the dizziness returns full force and he wriggles and backs away from the edge so that his headache doesn’t get worse.

Anna did mention that, didn’t she? “Don’t forget breakfast,” or something along that line.

Peter is so dreadfully good at taking care of himself, isn’t he? He shakes his head, regrets it immediately, and sinks down and inhales and exhales slowly to try and soothe his stomach. Gwen’s busy, so he can’t send her a message and ask if she can send him some food his way, and he doesn’t really want to bother Anna with the request and have her fret and try to get over to him when he doesn’t want to get down.

So he waits; he ends up lying down on the roof and waits for the feeling to pass enough until he can actually swing away and get some food because he feels a bit pathetic this way. When the headache has ebbed away, finally, Peter’s thoughts drift off over to the attack with the stolen Stark tech.

Whoever that is using them has no clue what the hell they are doing, so Peter can at least take solace in that but that still brings up the issue with the fact someone seems to have the _know how_ to rob from Stark industries.

Despite the disdain that Peter has for Tony Stark there is no denying the fact that that man has one of the _best_ securities in the world… at least, there definitely is a strong amount of security in Stark tower. Sure, there is that one specific instance where people have broken in and Frank Castle, once the Punisher, has to end up killing them to save them all but Peter remembers that being an awful, awful one time fluke that has never happened again.

But then that begs the question—if one is to assume that perhaps the security for the defunct suits is, perhaps, one hundredth of the security of the main tower, then it’ll still be difficult to break in. So how does one accomplish it?

Perhaps somehow, despite the deep level of DNA scanning, facial recognition, and the cameras, the system can be tricked? Maybe not the main one, but surely the inferior copy of the main. There is no denying that someone can possibly do something simple, or maybe even complex, enough to fool technology.

Sometimes you just need the simplicity to dupe the complexity; there will always be something _deep down_ all the intricate mess that can be tricked and manipulated… so, what is it? He hisses as the deep thinking causes the headache to flare up again, bad enough that his stomach flips and bile rises up again, but Peter forces it down and tries not to vomit up… _nothing_ in his hopes to figure this out.

Without any information from the Avengers or Stark, however, Peter is quite certainly at a sort of dead-end. Damn it, maybe he should have told Gwen to at least drag some sort of compromise out of Tony before he decides to run off and leave her to deal with the pompous jerk on her own.

... he’s not being fair to Tony; he hasn’t done anything, it’s just that Peter remembers meeting his hero once, and being disappointed ever since then.

‘Never meet your heroes’, or something like that. A part of him hopes, desperately hopes, that if one of his fans ever meets him that he doesn’t disappoint or upset them.

“Urgh,” Peter groans, “stop thinking so much, Spidey—wait, why are you talking outloud?” he rubs at his forehead through his mask and groans. “Spider-man, you’re kind of losing it.”

He jolts then when his spider-sense starts to go off – a soft, familiar buzzing – and he doesn’t even have to assume who it is when a recognisable voice answers him. “Naw baby boy, I don’t think you’ve lost it that much yet! Unless you have boxes in your head too. Do you have boxes in your head?”

“Deadpool!” Peter cries out and he sits up far too quickly, and presses a hand against his mouth. “Hurghk.”

Deadpool falls into a crouch next to him and Peter nearly bolts away in surprise as his spider-sense gets far too loud for his head—and _shit_ does that hurt his head. “Yo, hey, baby boy, you okay?” Deadpool asks, his arms hanging from his knees and Peter can see the frown through his mask – _‘seriously, note to self, remember to ask Deadpool about his mask later’_ – and he sighs at the mercenary. “You look like a cat about to vomit up five-thousand ant-sized villains.”

“… that’s oddly specific.” Peter says in response. “Do you… want to maybe _elaborate_ on that, Deadpool? Why-“

“Story for another time! Don’t change the subject.” His expression hardens and Peter feels… _vaguely_ uncomfortable over the concern. “Did someone poison you? I know of a way to siphon poison out. Did someone attack you? Tell me where they are, baby boy, and I’ll deal with them for you—without killing!”

Peter gives him a wary look and he waves a dismissive hand. “No, no—I’m fine. No poison or attack— I just didn’t eat today, and thought that webbing around was a good idea after hours of…” he makes a few gestures. “Of… well, patrolling Parker industries and beyond.”

He’s so bad at lying.

“Wait, wait wait waaaaait- so you’re telling _me_ that you haven’t eaten until now? It’s five! _Five!_ How does one person forget to feed—did you eat breakfast?”

“… No.”

“Wow! _Wow,_ and I thought I was bad at the self-care and the self-treatment, but nooope. I at least _eat_ because, you know, healing factor and all, and here you are – totally healthy and of sound mind, no boxes in the head, though the talking to yourself is a bit concerning—“

“I’m just stressed!” Peter protests.

Deadpool blatantly ignores him. “—but we’ll start talking about that and therapists once you start to develop voices in your head, like me! But hey, if you get voices, and I have voices, and they aren’t my voices who transferred to your head – like they did with Rogue once. She’s a good kisser, you ever kissed Rogue, Spidey?”

He stares at him blankly. “… no, I haven’t kissed Rogue.”

“You’re missing oooout, babe! But then again, you have Spider-gal with you, right? She’s amazing-“

“Deadool, please stop talking about me kissing other people. I have a girlfriend.”

“Fine, fine, but we are totally talking about the babes of our fantasies later, my snookums.” Peter can’t help but sputter out an indignant _‘snookums!?’_ at the mention of the nickname but Deadpool – once again – ignores him. “But where was I? Right! I was lecturing you! You of all people, with your whole responsibility spiel, about the fact that you didn’t take care of yourself! D’ya wanna explain that, sweetums?”

He wrings his hands together, a throbbing at his temple over his attempt to try and keep up with Deadpool’s fast tongue, and he really wishes that he can turn back time to eat. “If I do, will you stop calling me nicknames?” he asks eventually, and Deadpool gives a grin and shakes his head. “Figures. I just… it just slipped my mind. These things happen-“

Deadpool makes a face at him, and if Peter can see his face then he’s sure it’s a very disapproving one. Why does he feel like the roles have been reversed here? “Uh, babe, gotta disagree with you there—didn’t your stomach hurt _at all?_ You know, _with hunger?”_

“I… had a headache?”

“You had a he—maybe it was because you were _hungry?_ ”

“I just assumed it was stress and some pills would make it go away!”

“Well, did it?”

“No! Of course not!”

Deadpool shakes his head. “How are you still _alive?_ Like even I’m starting to doubt that you’re actually alive. Maybe you have a ton of clones of you?”

“I don’t do this all the time!”

“Yes, yes you do. Remember five weeks ago, when Spider-gal had to-“

“Deadpool, you don’t need to-“

“Or what about two months ago, when you passed-“

“Seriously, I get it.”

“Ooohh, I forgot that instance two weeks ago, when you—!”

He webs Deadpool’s mouth and – well, it doesn’t really work, but the surprise on Deadpool’s face and the stunned silence gives him time to breathe and talk. “Okay, okay, I’m not good at feeding myself—but it’s… habit, mostly.” Peter says, and he hurries to say something else before Wade can actually ask him anything. “But I’m fine- I just need to sit down, breathe, and I’ll have my bearings again and, y’know, do what I gotta do.”

“Be a web-slinging hero?”

“Of course.”  He ignores the way that Deadpool just… _stares._ He’s quiet, and that’s something that makes Peter shift and frown. If there is one thing that anyone can say about Peter it’s that he _does not_ like it when he doesn’t know what’s going on, and Deadpool’s silence is deathly scary.

They sit in silence for a while and, after a while, he sighs and stands up – oh, that’s a sudden rush, that is an absolute sudden rush – and Peter tries his hardest _not_ to wobble and bring up any more of Deadpool’s worry. “I hafta go now; I barely got a good ways into my patrol before I had to crash for a bit.”

Deadpool still stares. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Peter hesitantly says, “but I really, really think I prefer it when your mouth is running a mile a minute.”

“Why, baby boy!” Deadpool chirps up suddenly. “Is this a confession? Do you actually…” he gasps dramatically. “Do you love me, Spidey? Do you finally acknowledge your-“ before Deadpool can say anything else, Peter shoves his palm against his face to silence him.

“No.” Peter says blankly. “That was not a confession, what the hay. I’m going to go because I have—you know— _work_ to do. Goodbye, Deadpool.”

With that, he forces himself to feel _fine_ and makes his way over to the edge of the roof, reaches out, and shoots out a web and jumps off of the roof. “I’ll always be waiting for your confession, my baaaaaaaaaaaby!” Deadpool yells out, and Peter pointedly ignores him.

 

 

In spite of his awful headache, Peter manages to stop at least two robberies (he is reminded of that one joke he saw online – he wishes he knows what show it’s from, but it’s about how no one should really live in New York because it’s so full of crime) and stops a wannabe mugger as well.

He manages to completely ignore his hunger at some point; _‘this is definitely unhealthy,’_ Peter thinks, and he dreads having to go back and eat. _‘Good going, Parker. Have the money and don’t even use it.’_ If aunt May ever hears about it, Peter is sure she’ll never stop lecturing him on both his duties as Spider-man and his responsibility in taking care of himself.

Speaking of May; Peter needs to visit her some time soon. It’s been a long, long while since he remembers last seeing here, and guilt lays heavy in his stomach and Peter swings up and settles on a street lamp. He reaches for his actual phone – not the one that he uses for Parker industries, nor the one for his vigilante business – and shoots off a quick text to May to let her know he’s gonna visit her today.

Maybe he should bake her some brownies? Peter’s been itching to bake again, and May’s love of brownies is as good an excuse as any… His stomach growls and Peter aggressively pats it, hoping to quiet it like one does some sort of animal (though poorly- you shouldn’t pat an animal to quiet it, unless they’re a household dog wanting pets).

He ignores the people pointing and taking pictures of him just perching up on the street lamp as he texts May, and then goes to texting Mary Jane to pass the time. It’s… been a while since he has had the chance to talk to her – with her being busy with her bar and constantly moving – and Peter considers visiting her as well.

There are so many people he needs to visit again—at least Harry’s working with him so he doesn’t feel like he’s missing out on one part of his life.

Abruptly, his spider-senses start to go off – not enough to tell him that there’s any real danger – and Peter straightens up and reacts far too late when something hits the small of his back. He turns around, trying to figure out what it is that hit him, and he dodges finally when his spider-senses go off again and he sees—

… is that a bullet?!

 

 

Wait.

 

Did… someone hit him with a rubber bullet? He furrows his brow and webs over to where the bullet came from and he catches sight of someone ducking away. Who the heck is trying to irritate him? With slowly rising annoyance, he lands on his feet and tries to give chase, only to skid to a stop at the sight that appears before him.

Right in front of him is graffiti of Deadpool’s symbol above some Chinese food, and Peter groans loudly. “Deadpool!?” he yells out. “Seriously—Deadpool, where are you!? Thanks for the food! … Are you gonna eat with me?”

When no one answers him, Peter shakes his head, sits down, and decides to eat the food that Deadpool has given him.

Peter may have money now, but he’s still has some bad habits he really needs to get rid of.

* * *

Arriving at the scene of the crime is… a bit hectic. They’re at a warehouse – it’s always a warehouse, that’s weird; how many warehouses does New York even have? – and Gwen’s essentially sneaking in from the rooftops. It doesn’t take her much trouble to quietly cut a circle in the glass panes above. She peeks in to see what’s going on, and her eyebrows shoot up when she catches sight of… a makeshift lab in the warehouse.

_Weird._ Why is someone running some sort of lab in this warehouse? … Why didn’t they expect anyone to find them at some point? She shakes her head and begins to crawl in, fingers sliding ever so slightly against the glass before she makes her way over to a rougher bit of surface.

She continues to crawl along, her eyes falling on the sight of some sort of cage covered by a blanket, and her eyes narrow. _‘What’s going on here?’_ Gwen thinks and she quickly slips away from sight. There are mostly scientists here from what she can tell; aren’t there supposed to be thugs here? Can there be a chance that someone gave them faulty info?

Seriously, Gwen actually expects thugs instead of a bunch of scientists and a cage. She stays still in a corner for a bit, watching and waiting and— _now_ she sees where the need to call in a thug threat comes from.

Out of a door tucked a good distance away, a few very, _very_ out of place thugs stream in alongside a few others—she squints at the people that accompany the thugs. They don’t seem to look like scientists, no, not that she can really tell. The masks on their faces make it really hard to tell what exactly they are supposed to be.

She crawls around a little more, edging closer and closer to the cage while trying her hardest not to be spotted, and she strains to try and hear what the scientists are saying and she… she’s pretty sure they’re actually speaking German?

Damn it, this is what she gets for skipping out on that multilingual day. Or something. But really; she kind of wishes that maybe Deadpool is here, because doesn’t he know pretty much every language ever? … or at least forty out of the hundred of them; twenty of which he is okay in, eleven of which he is good in, five which he’s great at, and four he’s fluent in.

Surely Deadpool can understand German. Hopefully. Maybe. Despite her not knowing at all what they’re saying, she makes sure to quickly reach for her phone to try and get the rest of their conversation recorded, even if she can’t understand it.

It’s better to have evidence and information than not have anything at all.

She sneaks closer to the cage, tries to peek underneath the blanket on it to see what’s inside, and Gwen ends up jumping far, far away when a cat-like shrieking escapes the cage.

They start yelling in alarm, and when the thugs pull out guns once she – pretty much – has revealed herself, Gwen is sure that the whole attempt at ambushing probably has gone very, very south.

“So! I guess it’s a bit too late to say hi, right?” Gwen yells out as she twists and weaves her way through a rain of bullets – she has done this so many times, it’s kind of like going to dancing classes all over again – without really caring. “I mean, you all are kind of jumping the bullet with this whole greeting thing! Is this how they teach you how to greet friends in Germany? Distressing!”

“Aw hell, shut up!” one of the gunners yell and Gwen kicks her leg up and poses dramatically as she dodges the bullet that speeds by. “Why do you spiders never stop talking?!” another thug yells out, and Gwen drops down into a split when they all fire above her head.

Man, she loves being flexible. “You guys are super great for my diet and exercising routine! I’m always gonna be in shape for literally all of you with how this is going!”

She stands, twirls with her leg kicked up and crouches and slides through all the attacks before she eventually sends out a net of webs and grabs at four of the thugs, lifts them up and throws them against the wall. It doesn’t take her long to actually deal with the common lowlifes around her.

It’s when one of them apparently accidentally shoots the lock of the cage, through the blanket and all, and manages to free whatever the heck is inside the cage. There’s another awful shrieking from the cage, and Gwen turns around just in time as her own spider-sense starts to _lose it_ because of a giant cat… thing to slam into her and send her flying.

As she goes flying, Gwen can only think that _‘yep, this is my life.’_

* * *

“So, did the Avengers contact you at all today?” Peter asks when he gets back home to Gwen—her hair’s a mess, her costume is a mess, and Peter frowns when he realises he’s going to have to sew it up and fix it before her watch can take it back in again.

He really needs to install some sort of repair function into their watches so that they have to keep from manually repairing them. “What happened to you, anyway?”

Gwen looks at him with a glare and a ton of scratches on the parts of her arms that are bare, and Peter ever so slowly makes his way over to her and gently pets her back. “They had some sort of giant mutated thing with them? Okay, fair, it wasn’t that big, but it had biiiig claws.” Gwen makes a clawing motion, and Peter blinks. “It’s like if Kraven the hunter was a god damn angry cat.”

“Sounds like Kraven to me.” Peter mumbles. “I’ll get the disinfectant, okay? You’re gonna probably have to strip for me.”

She gasps, flinches afterwards, but she brings her hands up and curls her fists at her chin and bats her eyelashes at him. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Given that you are my beautiful, wonderful girlfriend, I’m _always_ flirting with you. Unless we’re in danger, then I’m not. Because you know.” He smiles at her and she grins back, looking far too pretty to be real and Peter can’t help the blush that spreads on his cheeks. “You’re _very_ beautiful.”

“I know. You just told me.” He turns away to let her change into something more comfortable in peace while he goes to grab the disinfectant swabs so that he can clean the cuts up, and he sits next to her once he’s gotten bandages too – just in case.

Sure, they may have a healing factor [that Peter is still trying to find a way to enhance without going too far into mad scientist territory] but they aren’t Deadpool or Wolverine.

Not that he wants to be—he’s not sure about Gwen, and he bets that she will definitely like having a crazy strong healing factor that’ll allow her to do more, but the idea of having a healing factor strong enough to prevent death makes him feel… queasy.

Immortality always does come with a big price, and Peter doesn’t think he has the _fortitude_ to even be able to deal with it. He has seen Deadpool die repeatedly only to come back, with grinding bones and squelching muscles, and Peter doesn’t even have to explain on how that has affected the mercenary.

Someone just has to stay with Deadpool and listen to the mad ramblings and to the constant mouthing to be able to tell that some things just don’t _leave._ As he cleans up some of the scratches – some of which are actually _deep,_ deeper than Peter expects, and he curses their pain tolerance – he can’t help but overthink things.

He’s mostly moving on automatic when he stands up to go and grab the first aid kit to deal with some of the deeper wounds, and Gwen hisses but doesn’t protest much other than the actual, agitated hiss.

 _‘If immortality bothers me so much,’_ he thinks to himself as he cares for Gwen, _‘why am I so obsessed with my research?’_

He looks down at his hands, at the gloves he has to wear just to be able to grab things as though his hands are actual flesh and blood instead of complex machinery, and Peter bites his lower lip to hold back the sigh that desperately wants to escape. “You know,” Gwen pipes up after a while and Peter glances up at her, “I think the bad guys we were dealing with didn’t actually make the mutated creature.”

Something in him goes cold. “… Really? Why?”

“They were screaming about how they need to take him back to the lab—and someone at some point tried to stop the cat from attacking us and take it back to their vans. They only really got violent when SHIELD showed up.”

“So… do you think we were the bad guys in that instance?”

Gwen tilts her head, a crease appearing in her brow as she thinks, before she finally shakes her head. “I don’t think there’s a good or bad there; I mean, I d’no anything, but some shady shi-crap is definitely going on.”

“Do you think it’s tied with the theft at Stark?”

“I… don’t think so? I mean, Jesus Peter, you’re kinda jumping the shark here, aren’t you?”

“They just feel so close together! And they have a lab—and the Stark tech was compromised, so I just… assumed… y’know?”

“Well, for now, we don’t know anything. The best we can do is wait for something to pop up while the Avengers are busy being them, or if SHIELD decides that we _deserve_ to know what’s going on.”

Peter snorts. “If you’re not part of SHIELD or the Avengers, you are definitely not going to get anything.” He murmurs and Gwen just nods in agreement. “I guess just asking questions we don’t have answers to isn’t going to help us much.”

“Definitely not. You wanna talk about how your day went? Mine had a lot of mauling. Maybe you should give my suit some spidey-hairs like your own so that you can thicken it up and it’ll be harder to tear.” Gwen says jovially, though Peter still raises an eyebrow at her nonetheless.

“I’ve considered it.” He admits. “I just need to find a way to implement it. It’s very hard to convince your scientists to make two-hoodied Spider-suits, and it’s going to be harder to convince them to make them into actual armour.”

“… Didn’t you make our suits yourself?”

“Details.” He finally pats at Gwen’s shoulders when he’s done with his – in Peter’s opinion anyway – subpar first aid skills. “There! Hopefully they won’t get any worse and we’ll get to avoid meeting up with Dr. Din.”

Gwen pets at her bandages and Peter very gently swats her hands away. “You still didn’t tell me what went on in your day.”

“Stopped few robberies, a mugger; the usual. I told aunt May we’re gonna visit her soon; I’m going to make her some brownies, and you’re going to get her a nice gift, and we’re going to have a nice dinner with aunt May and then come back home.”

She gives him a cheeky grin. “I’ll make sure to not overspend again.” She says. “And I’ll make her some Indian food… and I’ll make sure that yours isn’t too spicy.” Peter scoffs. “Anything else happened for you today?”

He hesitates to answer, and Gwen immediately picks up on that. She looks at him pointedly and crosses her arms – not without a glare from Peter – and _waits_ for him to answer. When he realises that Gwen definitely isn’t going to budge, Peter sighs and rubs the back of his head. “I… forgot to eat breakfast today. And lunch too, kinda sorta?”

“Peter!”

“Wait! I’m not talking yet—I ran into Deadpool as, you know, Spider-man…”

“I’m pretty sure if you ran into him as Petey that he’ll kinda lose his shit.”

Peter pauses. “Maybe, but anyway- I ran into Deadpool, he found out I wasn’t doing okay, I told him I didn’t eat, and then later on after the robberies and mugging, he bought me Chinese food.”

There’s a heavy silence that drags far too long over them both. He looks away, around, and then looks back at Gwen and her raised eyebrow and he slumps his shoulders. “I ate it! If that’s what you’re—okay, yes, he bought me Chinese food, but he didn’t even tell me. He shot at me with rubber bullets to get my attention!”

“Rubber bullets.” Gwen echoes.

“Rubber bullets.” Peter confirms.

With what Peter thinks is the slowest shake of her head, Gwen speaks. “I really wanna tease you about this, but I’m feelin’ kinda woozy now, and I think my body’s decided to _finally_ tell me to go the hell to sleep. Bed now?”

Peter smiles sweetly at her. “Sure. We can go to sleep early.”

“Thanks—hooo boy, I’m dizzy. Very dizzy. Everything is kind of spinning.”

“Let’s get you to bed before you vomit.”

 

He does manage to keep her from puking and he tucks her in and lets Gwen just pass out on their bed before Peter goes off to fix her suit up. It’s still agonizingly early for Peter – far too early, if you ask him – and he can’t sleep.

Peter needs to keep his hands busy until the unsettling thoughts go away, and he isn’t stuck thinking about immortality and regeneration.


	5. you got any games on your phone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warning! Wade's yellow box is a tiny bit too sexual here, so heads up for that!

“Whoa!” Peter yells as he’s pounced by someone, right while he’s swinging next to Gwen, and she stares at him comically as he goes flying. Who the hell decides that pouncing one of the spider-duo, midair, while they are swinging is apparently the best course of action? He’s sure that this is why his spider-sense has been humming and buzzing consistently, and he tries to figure out who it is that’ll do something like—

He looks down, sees red and black arms wrapped around his waist, and Peter thinks, with the largest amount of irritation that one superhero can muster up, that _of course_ it’s Deadpool. Peter very quickly webs off before he slams up and _dies_ against the side of some building, or at least crashes through glass windows (which, painful) and terrifies the _hay_ out of the people that work here, innocuously.

Having to manipulate his momentum like that is a tad… difficult, especially when he has a very heavy mass of moronic muscular man on him, but Peter manages to swing them around and send them diving down and around, trying to lower the distance to the ground as much as possible.

Deadpool is still, very ridiculously, hanging off of him from around his waist and Peter wishes desperately that no one has actually _seen_ Deadpool just catching him off-guard. Gwen’s already probably going to kill him with her teasing, so Peter is totally not looking forward to that.

_‘Flippin’ Deadpool.’_

Despite the expert manoeuvering and repeated webbing (if he says so himself), the landing is… not good. He ends up crashing down onto his face in an alleyway with Deadpool following after, a weight on the small of his back and he hears – or, well, rather feels – squealing against his spandex.

“I am never going to wash my suit ever again!” he hears a second later when Deadpool enthusiastically sits up, and Peter is still lying face down and begging for the sweet solitude of blissful passing with his still-beating, miserable heart.

The alleyway floor smells so _weird._ He hates his life.

He hears a very gentle thud next to him, and Peter wishes – momentarily – that he has Deadpool’s healing factor so that he can bash his skull in when he realises what that means. “Do you _ever_ wash your suit, Deadpool? I’ve known you for ten years—“

“Eleven years, baby girl! Baby boy’s bountiful, bodacious, bouncy booty has known me for _twelve!”_ Deadpool chirps, far too cheerily in Peter’s opinion.

“Nice alliteration. Did you _only_ tell me that so that you could make that alliteration?” Gwen asks, amusement clear in her voice and Peter can see the glow of her smile behind her mask.

Which, really, he loves her being happy but not at his expense—or if it is going to be at his expense, can it at least be when Deadpool isn’t nuzzling him?

“Naw! I just wanted the readers to have some sort of timestamp for when we all met, even though the author has yet to say what age we are!” At that, Deadpool briefly looks up at… the sky? Peter can’t really tell from his position, but he’s staring at… nothing.

Gwen blinks. Peter slams his forehead against the alleyway floor in exasperation. Ouch. “I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that… aaand now I can’t remember what I was talking about.” Gwen grumbles, briefly agitated and Peter _really_ doesn’t blame her. Deadpool makes no sense. _What the hell._

Deadpool is also _still_ clinging to him, and Peter is _pretty sore_ from crashing into the dirty ground.

“ _Get him off of me.”_ Peter eventually hisses out, and Deadpool lets out a pained whine at the notion of being removed from his body and clings to him even tighter, and Gwen snickers at his misery. _‘Traitor.’_ He thinks as Gwen just watches him for a bit, her arms crossing in front of her and her gaze fixing itself on the way Deadpool happily nuzzles his back. “Get him _off!”_

“Why, Spidey,” Gwen says slowly, “I had no clue you were a _dirty boy.”_

“ _Oh my g- that is not what I meant!”_

 She snickers. “I know, I know. C’mon Pool, gotta get off of ‘im now.” Saying that, she reaches down and grabs Deadpool by the back of his neck and very easily tugs him off of Peter, much to his eternal gratitude, and settles him down gently, like a child.

A very odd strangled noise escapes Wade then while Peter stands up, finally, and stretches his legs and twists his upper body around. “Deadpool,” Peter says, his voice as monotone as possible to convey the blankness of his hidden face, “why did you do that? You could have _killed me.”_

“I knew you wouldn’t have died like that, baby boy!” Deadpool says enthusiastically, though his voice is still oddly strained. Weird. Is the guy actually sick, somehow? Shouldn’t his healing factor make quick work of that? “A guy like you… dies heroically! All badass and shit, savin’ everyone from a big bad, fighting while bleeding to the very end! You don’t just _die_ simple, you know?”

“What about me?” Gwen chirps up curiously.

“You’ll probably die and be brought back as a Valkyrie, which means you’ll _never_ die.” Deadpool says with the utmost seriousness, and Peter looks at the two of them, looks away, and lets out the most exasperated sigh that one can manage.

Pointedly, Gwen and Deadpool ignore him. “A Valkyrie, huh?” Gwen says, a smile in her voice as she humours Deadpool, and Peter hums.

“I gotta agree with Deadpool—“ he hears the over-exaggerated gasp from Deadpool who imitates The Scream at the very suggestion and Peter sends a ball of web at his knee. Satisfyingly enough, Deadpool lets out a yell. “—and I have to say, you probably would come back as an awesome warrior goddess.”

Gwen taps her chin, as though considering it. “Do you think I’ll meet up with Lady Thor if that happens? I _love her._ Do you think she’ll give me her autograph? Kiss me on the cheek, maybe?”

“I’m… sure she’ll give you her autograph, maybe, if you don’t fangirl too hard.” Peter says. “Not sure about the kiss part.”

Deadpool pops up in between Gwen and him and Peter jerks back in surprise—when did Deadpool even move?—though the mercenary doesn’t seem that bothered by it. “If she kissed you and it went any deeper-“

Peter manages to sputter out a “Deadpool, she’s my girlfriend!” at the same time that Gwen calmly says “Deadpool, I have a boyfriend” but the man doesn’t seem that bothered.

No, nope. Not bothered at all. He just continues talking.

“- then you should totally invite me so that I can record it for my personal spank bank!”

“And you wonder why I hate you.” Peter says, aghast, and Gwen snickers and reaches over to pet his head. “Don’t do that.” he complains, but there’s no bite behind his words and Deadpool sinks down – how does he do that so gracefully? Not even Peter can do that – and appears right next to them, pointlessly, so that he can drape his arms over their shoulders and hug both spiders close.

Peter’s nose scrunches up at the sudden smell of oil, sweat and food that seems far too much now that he’s squeezed against Deadpool’s side. “You really don’t clean your suit up, do you?” Peter asks, exasperated, and Gwen gasps.

“ _That’s_ what I was talking about! And yeah, no, Pool, seriously, you smell pretty…”

“Bad?” Peter suggests.

“I’d say _amazing!”_ Deadpool interjects.

“Strong, is what I’d give for him Spidey, but _thank you_ for your brutal honesty. Pool, you smell kinda rank.” Gwen nods.

Deadpool huffs. “Strong and rank isn’t even the same thing! And, besides, I smell _manly.”_

“You don’t!” Peter cries out. “Let go of us so that we can get back to work already!”

Gwen hums, seemingly unperturbed by the smell (though Peter’s sure she’s merely pretending she isn’t; Gwen’s good at dealing with smells, for some reason, he doesn’t know why), and shrugs. “We can have a small break.”

He looks at her with horror.  “A break? Ohhh, are we gonna have another date?” Deadpool asks, perking up like a puppy at the dinner table, and Gwen shakes her head.

“Naw, actually…” she leans back to stare at Deadpool with a gaze that feels serious even through her mask, the atmosphere suddenly changing when Gwen seems to have entered her _business_ mode now. “First, let’s get out of the alley- it feels kinda dirty here.” As she says that, both Gwen and he disentangle themselves from Deadpool’s hold, and he ignores the momentary weird upset he feels about no longer being pressed against a wall of muscle.

After that, Peter looks around and rubs the back of his head when he takes his surroundings in. It’s another typical New York alleyway, which means that it doesn’t feel clean, and that for some reason – more often than it really has any right to be – someone is trying to do something illegal here, because it’s New York.

New York attracts criminals and villains like moths to a flame. Briefly, Peter wonders how the villains will feel like being compared to moths that fly too close to a fire, burn up and then die.

That is weirdly the most morbid thing he has thought of today. Peter needs to stop thinking. Thinking is bad for him… but so is instincts, because _who throws a lot of money out the window when they are panicking?_

Yeah, no.

Stick to thinking, Parker, at least you’ll _hopefully_ not throw anything out windows again. “Sure,” he says finally after what feels like minutes of silence, “we can swing away-“

“We’re walking.” Gwen interrupts. He blinks and stares at Gwen. “What? We’re _walking._ We swing too much; why not walk and take some hipster selfies?”

Peter opens his mouth, closes it, tries to talk and sputters, before he finally talks properly. “Spider-gal! We are _not_ hipsters! Don’t make fun of them, anyway, that’s awfully _rude—“_

“Have you _met_ hipsters, Spidey? They’re just _something else._ Like, totes great fashion, I’d wear the shit they’re wearing, but lordie lord, Hipsters with a capital _H_ are something else!”

Peter wildly gestures at himself. “We’re something else!”

Gwen throws her arms in the air. “We’re mutates! Hipsters are just in their own category! They’re not even in a subcategory of social cliques, they’re just The Hipsters!”

“Uh.” Deadpool says. “Weren’t we gonna go for a walk?” Predictably, he gets ignored and taps his indexes together while Peter places his hands on his hips and tries to lean forward. “Guys? Babes? Angels of my life and all? Hello?”

Still being ignored.

“Are _you_ forgetting your scene phase, Spider-gal?” Peter snaps.

She lets out a horrified gasp. “Don’t you dare bring that up!”

“You were the most insufferable person ever—“

“At least I wasn’t trying to be punk!”

He flushes horribly beneath his mask and thanks God above that Deadpool can’t see it. “That was for a week! _A week!_ You were a scene kid for like, two years of middle school!”

Unbeknownst to Peter, Deadpool sighs, grabs one of his stun grenade, backs away a bit from the alleyway and turns, aims, pulls the pin, and throws the stun grenade as hard and as far as he can. He ducks down, smacks his hands onto his ears and closes his eyes hard.

Within seconds, the stun grenade goes off and both Gwen and Peter jolt in surprise and whip their heads up to stare at the source of the _high-pitched sound_ and then look down at Deadpool who is ducking away from the general area of the stun grenade. Several civilians yell and there is a _lot_ of disorientated screaming, and the Spiders look at each other.

“Okay, okay. We’re leaving.” Gwen says. She grabs Deadpool then, crouches down, and jumps off high and Peter follows after her, swinging after her and it’s a surprisingly quiet journey until they get to a park far, far away from the source of the distress. “JJJ is gonna have a field day with that one.”

“Yeah.” Peter sighs. “He is. Thanks, Deadpool.”

Once he’s placed down onto his feet, he beams up at Peter. “No problem!” he chirps, drapes his arms over their shoulders again, and then presses them close. Deadpool really has no idea what personal space even means, Peter has come to realise for the umpteenth time. “But seriously, baby, if he’s bothering you, I can always-“

“NO!” he practically screams in utter horror, and he can feel the stares of several of the civilians who are jolted by surprise from how loudly he screams. _‘I mean, if a mercenary offered to kill someone wouldn’t you also scream? … Maybe not if you’re evil? Or morally grey? Stop thinking, Parker!’_

The man practically deflates in front of him. “Not even for free?” he sounds like an absolute kicked puppy, and Peter almost feels weirdly guilty for that. _‘What the hay, Parker? He literally threatened to kill JJJ! Come **on!** ’_

Flicking his own forehead, he ignores Gwen’s surprised gigglesnort and glares at Deadpool. “No! Not even for free, oh my gosh! Just—Spider-gal! Just—just ask him what you want to ask!”

She stares at him with confusion for a bit, before she straightens up with the memory. “Oh! Right, right! My original question—yes. Right, so. Uh. Deadpool! Do you know any German?”

What does German have to do with this? Peter thinks to himself as he looks at Gwen closely. “I… well, yes, babe. I do.” Deadpool furrows his brow at Gwen, and he ends up removing his arms from their shoulders [again] and Peter is almost – nope, he is not going to say disappointed.

He definitely does not feel disappointed that he is not leaning against muscular warmth anymore aaaaaaaaand he did not think that. “Why’re you asking?” Deadpool asks, his brows furrowing.

At that, Gwen momentarily stops, as though wondering how to begin this, before she glances at Peter. “So uh… Spidey, ya remember that thug thing I was called for? I may have forgotten a _teeny tiny_ bit of detail to tell you last time.” Gwen says while she fully turns her gaze over to Peter, stepping back, and he hums out a question in response to her. “To be fair, I was really scratched up. And hurting.”

Peter rubs at his face in exasperation because _of course._ They both really need to get rid of that habit of ‘oh I forgot to tell you this kinda sorta important thing’. Deadpool looks over at him questioningly. “Remember when you bought me Chinese food—that… that was you, right?” Peter asks – wow, now that he thinks about it, why _did_ he take the food without checking who it is from? What is _wrong_ with him?!

“Of course it was!” Deadpool scoffs. “Who else can shoot the great Spidey and not kill him? _And_ get him some kickin’ Chinese food because _apparently_ my great _ass hero_ can’t take care of himself!”

He looks at him warily; he’s really not going to acknowledge the jab at his inability to take care of himself, and decides to focus on the shooting bit instead. Because that’s easier to deal with.

Gosh, there is so much wrong with him, isn’t there? “A lot of people have tried to _kill me_ , Deadpool, and you were actually one of them. Years ago. You tried to kill m-“

“That’s in the past! What is this about a thug thing?”

Gwen is the one that finally speaks up, interrupting Peter before he even gets to begin another argument with Deadpool. He is _really_ not good at this whole diplomatic thing, is he?  “I was called in for what was _supposed_ to be me taking a gang down, because gotta help the local force, ya know? but turned out to be scientists, thugs, and some weirdoes in masks… and that sounds kind of hypocritical of me to say, doesn’t it?”

 Both Deadpool and he nod. “Err. Forget that weirdoes in masks comment then. But, anyway! I need to speak to you about the scientists in _specific._

“The scientists there were speaking German. Now, I didn’t pay attention to the people who told me not to skip language day—yes, I know it’s not a thing Spidey, stop looking at me that way, anyway—and I didn’t record the _whole_ thing, but I got a lil’ bit of some sort of conversation on my phone—“

“Do you want me to translate it?” Deadpool asks, the joy in his voice gone, and he straightens up, the lines of his body tense. He’s acting exactly like he does when Peter sees him grabbing his phone and talking business with the Avengers or SHIELD—serious with less humour, but humour that’s still there.

He’s more admirable this way, but it doesn’t help – still – that Deadpool’s _far_ too violent. He stares at his gun holsters, stares at his katanas, and Peter briefly remembers Frank Castle.

Where one convinces himself that killing criminals is necessary, the other is someone who once used to murder anyone for money. They really do have the worst luck, Gwen and him that is, to stumble across these two—he hopes, very deeply hopes, that Deadpool doesn’t try to become a deeper part of their lives.

After the mess with the Punisher… after all that convincing— Peter thinks they desperately need a break.

Deadpool is still killing people, even if he insists that he hasn’t been doing it _as much_ , and Peter doesn’t know if Gwen can handle their shared duty of stopping him from doing that completely if he wants to be a hero.

Some things take far longer than others to change. Deadpool may be one of them—though he is _definitely_ his own person instead of a thing.

Gwen’s voice is what breaks him out of his zoning out. “I do, actually—not that it’s _want,_ it’s more like I need you to translate them for me. Do you think you can do that for me? I’ll send you a copy of what I have to wherever you’re staying, so don’t think you’re getting my phone number any time soon.”

“Drats, girl, you saw through my clever ruse.” Deadpool leans forward, resting his elbow on Gwen’s shoulder, and he pouts at her. “But no, really, I _can_ translate it, but German isn’t my strongest language.”

“Be as quick as you can be.” Gwen’s voice is oddly hushed, and she glances over to Peter and he nods at her. “I think something’s going on, and it’d be nice to know even a fraction of what’s happening.”

He hears Deadpool hum and Gwen moves closer to Peter while the mercenary thinks it over. She places her hand on Peter’s shoulder, squeezes, and murmurs to him. “I really want to know why they had some sort of mutated cat thing with them.”

“You think Deadpool can help?” Peter whispers back, his gaze wondering over to one of the small ponds in the park, and Gwen moves to speak only to be interrupted by Deadpool merely seconds later which brings both their attention back to him.

When their attention is back on him, he throws his arms up dramatically. “You’re just in luck, baby girl! I actually have my _buheeznus cawds_ with me, so you can deliver whatever the hell you want me to translate for you right there. This’d be totally easier if you just gave me an email or a phone or something—“

Peter ends up webbing Wade’s mouth again, and the man just seems more delighted by it than silenced. “Whoa there! Slow down tiger, we’re not the kind of people that give up information after the first date- tenth date, maybe, but you gotta work harder than that.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence from Deadpool as he stares at Peter like he has popped off another head, and he presses his hand against his forehead when Deadpool takes his time in responding. “Is the great Spider-man flirting with me!?” Is what he says when he finally talks again, and Peter wonders why he expects anything else from the man.

“No,” he says, “I’m just sayin’ that if you wanna be our friend, you gotta get with our boundaries and all. But no, really, Deadpool, this seems pretty important, so _try_ to at least take this seriously.”

Deadpool presses his hands together, as though in prayer, before he makes a crossing motion on his chest and he brings his hand up as if he’s going to make an oath. “I swear on my blackened, beating heart that I’ll be ready with the info as quickly as can be and to be as reliable as my fantastic ass lets me be!”

Darn it Deadpool.

“You think you can do us—well, me another—okay, I don’t remember the last time I’ve asked you for a favour, so can you do me A Favour?” Peter’s asks and Deadpool’s gaze becomes intense once more; he really doesn’t know what to feel about Businesspool. “You’re in the Avengers, and I need you to do me a solid—“

“I’d do you a solid if you let me.” Deadpool says, almost far too quietly as though he doesn’t want Peter to hear, so he decides to respect that and just continue talking, regardless of innuendos and jokes.

“—and figure out if that _thing_ with Iron Man’s stuff being stolen has been looked at or not. I need to make sure N.Y’s safe, and all.”

At that, Deadpool goes silent for a bit and looks Peter and Gwen over. He hums, as though considering it, before he just nods without really thinking. “For all this info you’re asking, I might as well ask you to pay me.” Deadpool says thoughtlessly, and Peter raises an eyebrow then grunts when Gwen elbows him. “You do know Iron Man hates my guts, right?”

“I’m pretty sure most people do.” Peter answers without really thinking, and he lets out another grunt when Gwen elbows him in the side again.

“No, baby, babelicious, you don’t get it. When I say hate, I mean like, grade A would kill my _guts_ if he could. Would blast my ass so hard I won’t be shittin’ for days. Hate hates me, actually hates me. _Loves_ to hate me. You do know that. _That_ sort of hates my guts.”

That’s… pretty extreme. He looks at Deadpool with concern, but the other doesn’t seem to notice it.

Because of his mask.

Of course. “… Okay, so people may dislike you, but I feel like Iron Man is the only one who is enough of a prissy royal to hate you _that_ much and _that_ intensely.” Peter says, slowly, and Deadpool presses his hands against his own chest and sighs before letting them drop to the side.

“See? Told ya so!”

“I still hold that people definitely dislike you. Just not like him.”

“Yowch! Stung by the Spider’s poison!”

“ _Venom.”_

Gwen leans against Peter, resting her head on his, and he resists the urge to nuzzle up against her. “I like him.” She admits when both boys are silent and Peter pinches her side and can’t help the smile at her yelp. “Ow! But… if you _are_ able to talk to Iron Man for us, it’d be _really_ nice. We’ll go to the carnival together later if you agree!”

“… We will?” Peter asks, oddly bewildered.

“Yes. _We will._ Right, Pool?” she turns her gaze to Deadpool and he looks like a sitting duck when she just _stares_ at him. “We _are_ gonna go to the carnival together later, hm?”

Deadpool scratches at the back of his head, looking awfully bashful for someone so loud. “Is there even a carnival this month?” Deadpool asks, and Gwen blankly stares at Peter, searching for confirmation, before she stares back at him. “We could… go to the arcade?”

“Deal. Arcade it is. It’s a date!”

“It’s not a date.” Peter says and pinches the bridge of his nose. An impressive feat, all things considering. “Sure. Okay. You just want to see me be bad at arcade games.”

She laughs and Deadpool seems to perk up in interest at that, though Peter manages to give him a glare that can be felt even by aliens fifty light years away from the three of them. “I’m gonna kick. Your. _Ass,_ Spidey. I hope Deadpool is a proper challenge.”

Deadpool pretends to spit into his palms, rubs them together, and then rolls up his imaginary sleeves. “You are _on_ Spidey-gal! I’m gonna teach you the true gaming prowess of the merc with the mouth. I’ma make ya cry for your mama!”

“Save the trash talk for the arcade, mercky boy! I am totally holding you to that promise. Spider-man can be our referee.”

“You don’t need a referee for—“ he lets out an overly dramatic sigh and slumps his shoulders. “ _Fine._ I’ll be your referee.”

Deadpool and Gwen high-five above him and Peter really wishes that Gwen and Deadpool never met because they like each other far too much for his sanity.

* * *

It’s been a few hours after his run-in with the Spiders, and Deadpool is utterly and absolutely  _bored._ There’s no one at the Avengers tower, other than big green Shrek boy but he is all locked up, and Deadpool is losing his mind even further just hanging out in the damn Avengers tower.

Ah yes… the Avengers tower.

The Avengers tower is everything that everyone pretty much imagines it to be. Futuristic, sleek, cool a hell and full of a ton of rooms that are mostly pointless but some of which are absolutely important.

There’s secret shit, not so secret shit, meeting rooms, recreation rooms, Deadpool’s sex rooms [or, well, they’re actually empty rooms but he totally has dibs on them for when he’s an Avenger!], and more. There are so many things in the Avengers tower…

… and Deadpool is hopelessly bored.

He keeps throwing and catching his hunting knife in the air, over and over, his feet crossing on the table while he waits for the other Avengers—or, more specifically, waits for _Tony Stark_ to make his entrance.

At best, Wade is an honorary member. At worst, he’s a SHIELD hired goon. He prefers it more when he’s actually working as an Avenger, doing his due diligence and all that, and actually feels like a _hero_ while getting to hang out with his heroes more than he does being hired by the SHIELD; he either works alone for SHIELD, or works with faceless government lackeys.

It’s like being a mercenary all over again, except he’s being hired by an actual government agency to make sure that certain people _stay dead._ He supposes that it’s still ‘hero’ work; sure, it’s morally grey hero work that Wade has been dealing with – internally, really – for years, but still.

Having Nick Fury or any of his underlings contact him to tell him that they have another job for him always rubs him the wrong way. The Avengers know— _but the Spider-duo don’t,_ and he _wants_ them to still think his jobs are horribly infrequent.

Wade can only imagine the anger he’ll face if he ever tells him that he’s still killing a good bit. Politics is a messy business, and Wade makes sure to keep himself as distanced from the nitty gritty details as much as possible. He doesn’t listen to Nick when he talks, in depth, about why they’re doing this, doesn’t listen when he says the target’s backstory, and doesn’t listen when he says that the government’ll thank Wade for it (Nick only says that for formality’s sake, anyway).

As long as he’s getting paid for whatever it is SHIELD needs him to do, promises to bring him closer into being accepted by the Avengers, Wade’ll do it. _‘Hopefully, they’ll never have to go through anything like this.’_ Wade thinks when his thoughts drift back to his favourite heroes and back to their requests.

 **[We really should probably actually call Tony up and see if he’ll show up.]** White says, popping up finally, and Wade lets out an exasperated groan.

**_{Why do we wanna talk to that jerk?! I say we just NOT do what Spider-man says and let him wait for what comes naturally! I don’t wanna talk to that jerk evuh uhgen!}_ **

**[You do know that if we work for the Avengers, we’ll have to talk to Tony Stark more regularly, right?]**

There’s a bit of silence as Yellow tries to digest what White has just said, and the distressed wail that follows afterwards makes Wade flinch. Damn, the voice in his head is loud. **_{NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! D.P, reconsider! Reconsider workin’ for the Avengers! I don’t wanna work for that—that tool!}_**

**[No! Joining the Avengers is the best course of action. They’re heroes. The world’ll like us more for it— _the Spiders_ will like us more for it.]**

**{ _But… but…}_**

**[I don’t like metal boy either, but we can’t throw a chance like that away for petty reasons.]**

Wade sighs and lets his head fall back, eyes slipping shut while those two continue to argue in his head even though White is clearly winning it out, you know, with him being the logical one and all.

As the useless and meaningless arguing continues on, Yellow’s whining gets louder and louder until Wade remembers— _‘Hey, wait, this is my brain, I can control what Yellow sounds like!’_ —and manages to reduce him to a monotone bastard.

_‘Score!’_

**_{HEY!}_ **

**[Heh.]**

**_{DON’T LAUGH AT ME!}_ **

Wade goes back to busying himself with potential danger as the knife goes up and down in the air, constantly grazing his palm as he carelessly catches it. Whatever, he has a healing factor for a reason. When is tin can gonna arrive, anyway?

He hears the sound of the elevator and he glances over to see Natasha and Wasp ( **[Her name’s Janet- if you’re gonna call Black Widow by her name, might as well extend the courtesy to Wasp.]** ) walking in, talking about… some mission or something.

Trying his hardest not to be conspicuous ( **[Despite what you all might think, we’re very good at sneaky.]** ), he strains to listen in on their conversation but he doesn’t really get anything from it as they walk opposite of him and to some other room. The only thing Wade manages to catch is that Janet needs Natasha’s help involving some bizarre ass stealth mission.

At least, it sounds weird to Wade. Who the hell wants to crawl into the esophagus of a once living robot that considers itself a flesh-like being?

Seriously. He doesn’t get it at all.

They’re also not Mr. Man of Tin Cans… speaking of; Wade hasn’t actually gone back to his apartment yet. What if Spider-gal arrives and he misses it? **[She’ll probably crawl in through the window.]**

**_{I’ll let her crawl all over me if I could, wowee!}_ **

Yeah, White definitely has a point. Spider-gal will definitely crawl in through the window and just leave whatever the hell she wants Wade to translate… on the bed. Which is _hopefully_ clean from the last time he’s been there. He’s pretty sure he jacked it real hard from what he remembers.

Or probably blew his head off against one of his bedroom walls. He doesn’t really remember, and he frowns at the fact that he _cannot_ remember at all. Well, Wade really, _reeeeally_ hopes that none of his blood is on the wall because he does not want to describe to Spider-gal why his bedroom is so bloody—

… Shit, does Wade still have time to go back and clean his flat up before Spider-gal arrives? Sure, he can’t clean it up _completely_ but at least it’ll be presentable for his hero if she decides to just crawl in through the window!

Damn it, why does he never think this shit through?!

 **[Do you ever really use your brain often?]** White jeers.

**_{You mostly use it to fantasize about all the ways you could get fucked, and start fucking! Boy, we’re pathetic and desperate!}_ **

**[You could say that again.]**

**_{I think I will! We’re soooo pathetic and desperate!}_ **

**[You usually fuel him.]**

**_{Shut up!}_ **

He plays with the nib of his mask for a bit, eyes still focusing on the elevator doors, and Wade wriggles when restlessness starts to make itself known. “Where the fuck is Iron Man!?” He eventually yells out, and no one answers him because _no one_ is in this big room with him, and Janet only briefly peeks out to check up on him before going back into the small room to discuss with Natasha bit more.

**_{Ten bucks they’re fucking!}_ **

**[Damn. Too bad we ain’t there to watch.]**

There’s a bit more silence, before Natasha finally steps out – looking pissed for whatever reason – and she smacks her hand down on the table Wade’s sitting at. He jolts and sits up and bites his tongue when he ends up stabbing himself by mistake with his knife.

“Tony’s coming tomorrow.” Natasha says, her voice sharp, and her glare is _deathly._ Wade leans back from her, trying ever so slowly to jiggle the knife out of his hand. “Now, no more yelling or breakdowns, Wade, or I will kick you out.”

**_{Rude! We didn’t even have a breakdown!}_ **

**[We were pretty loud.]**

**_{In more ways than one, ahurrhurr!}_ **

He grins. “Got’cha, my spidery babe! I mean, you’re nowhere near the babe that Spider-gal is-“ **_{Her tits are bigger than Spider-gal’s, though! Boing boing!}_** “-but I _totally_ respect you, and your desperate need for anger management—hey, I know a gal or fifty, _hah!,_ that can help you with your little rage—” Natasha’s glare just gets _worse_ and Wade is sure one of his ancestors died. Or… or one of his successors. Does he have any? “—and I think I’ll shut up now and leave.”

“ _Thank you.”_ She says, icily, before her expression even outs and she turns, with the babiest of all baby smiles that Wade has ever seen, to go back to Janet.

**_{They’re totally dating. Hoooot!}_ **

**[Huh. Never expected that.]**

Once Natasha is out of sight, Wade gets up, yanks the knife out of his hand, and throws it on the ground carelessly. If Natasha is gonna get mad at him for him being mad at Princess Tuna Can, then he’s gonna get some petty revenge out of it!

Blood on the nice carpet will do.

At least he’ll have time to hopefully clean his apartment flat up before Spider-gal arrives!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just recently finished Dishonored [low chaos] and I am so excited for Dishonored 2; the ending song was _so good_ for DH, I can't believe it.
> 
> I _also_ ended up finishing the 1977 Black Panther comic, which is one of the most unintentionally hilarious things I've read the past week or so. Seriously, if you ever have the stomach for weird 70s [alongside some issues present in the 70s], give it a read. The artstyle is so bad for 12 issues and it's just totally worth it. I love it.
> 
> Maybe this AU'll be called Earth-3115? It's kind of like a DNA strand!


	6. Is it really necessary for us to NOT be on the roof?

Wade isn’t entirely sure why he comes back to the Avengers tower late at night. There’s no one around in the commons room, or so he thinks so initially. He drags his feet along, having just finished killing someone [for SHIELD, of course] and having met up with Spider-gal for a moment or so before she left and he stretches. **[We really need a bath.]** White says, **[why are you even back here? How stupid are you?]**

**_{I’m sure our flat still smells like Spider-gal from when she arrived! Remember how gooood our flat smelt? I wanna drown in it!}_ **

**[You are the most unnecessarily creepy voice I have ever heard the displeasure of being in a headspace with.]**

Wade makes it a point to ignore both the voices in his head as they start to argue, having learnt after _years_ how to tune them out effectively, and he scratches his ass as he makes his way over to the kitchen of –

“Tin can?” he calls out, surprised, when he stumbles upon Tony just sitting at the dining table with an empty glass in front of him and two bottles of alcohol (wine? It doesn’t have a label) next to him. “Tin can! I thought you were gonna be back tomorrow! Didja miss me, metallica?”

Tony looks up at him and lets out a loud _groan_ at the sight of Wade before he lets his head fall down into a hard smack onto the dining table. “Don’t need this ri’now.” Tony grumbles, though he does lift up a bottle and waves it at Wade. “Drink?”

“Oh honey duhlin’, I’d take ya up on the offer but I needa be sober for this.” He makes his way over to Tony and sits across from him on the small dining table, and Wade just stares at the inebriated man before him. “You coherent enough to talk, Stark naked? Or are ya too busy chasin’ booze bubbles to even talk?”

He can practically feel the irritation rolling off in waves from Tony when he finally sits up and glares at Wade. “Whaddajawant?” Tony grumbles out, one hand coming up to rub at his eyes. “Why’m I awake ri’now?”

“Why _are_ you drinking?” Wade asks, one hand curling under his chin as he tilts his head to the side while the other taps on the table. “Not that I expect you to _tell me,_ of course.”

At that, Tony scoffs and tries to sit up proper – though he does wince and rub at his shoulders – and he grabs at one of the bottles. He lifts it up, stares at it for a bit, then puts it back down again and Wade raises one eyebrow (or well, he will if he _still has one!)_ at that little act. “Goin’ to _freakin’ Bahrain_ temorrow. _Still_ haven’t fixed security issues. Employee missin’… great goin’ really.”

“Bahrain.” Wade echoes. “Why the hell are you going to _Bahrain?_ That place is tiny! Oohhh, ohhhh, is Tony Stark goin’ on a vacaycay? Does that mean I can finally get to use your suits while you’re away?”

Tony looks at him with a mixture of horror and confusion, and he shakes his head so violently that Wade is surprised that the man isn’t puking up his guts from the migraine. “No!” Tony nearly yells and he winces at the sound of his own voice. “No. No usin’ ma suits. Dumb Deadpool…” he looks over to the bottle again, temptation clearly tugging at him, but he shakes his head and groans. “A villain ran ‘way all to Bahrain. Gotta… gotta get ‘im outta there ‘fore Bahrain’s gov’ment loses its _shit._ ”

“Right. I knew that.” Wade responds. “So… what’s this about security and missing employer? I thought you kept a tighter leash on everyone than that! Or do you like being kept on a leash?” he asks and crosses his arms on the table, leaning in closer in hopes that with Tony  being as drunk as he is will give away useful information for the spiders. He keeps his promises as best he can, after all. “This got anythin’ to do with your missing suits?”

He looks away, as though ashamed, at the mention of the break-in—or, if Wade is good at guessing, _not_ a break-in. “Had a—yeah, _missing_ stuff and… shit, fuck. Head hurts already. Talkin’ to you is always a shitfest.” Tony hisses out as one hand comes to rub at his forehead, _hard,_ and Wade snickers. He hasn’t even done anything this time! “Lemme… lemme try’n think.”

With a few deep inhales and exhales, Tony seems somehow more composed than before – with his slurs and short sentences – and Wade crosses his hands under his chin and rests his chin atop of them. Maybe Tony has had to talk to people while drunk more than once? _Important_ people, that is. What a good skill, Wade has gotta learn how to do that sometime.

**[Are we forgetting that you can’t get drunk?]**

**_{I miss the days where we’d wake up in some hooker’s bed, or wake up in a barn! Being drunk twenty-four/seven is way better than being sober. Tony Bony may be a jackass, but he got this right!}_ **

**[I can’t believe I’m agreeing with Yellow, but he’s right. We should figure out a way to be drunk _always._ Make that our default sober state.]**

_‘Then I won’t have to listen to you two anymore.’_ Wade thinks while Tony sways. _‘But we came to New York to be a new man. Bein’ drunk always ain’t gonna help that.’_

“Okay. I can—I can talk now.” Tony interrupts his thoughts, and Wade manages to focus his attention back onto him. “There was the—the attack. Spider-gal came to me and… shit. Fucking— _one of my employees,_ someone I _saved…_ ”

“Saved, huh?” Wade interrupts him and Tony looks at him with agitation. “Saved from what? Your charming good looks?”

He exhales. “After… mutants right act.” Tony says as though that explains everything, and Wade can’t help but straighten up and stare at him with a harsher stare now. He’s sure Tony can feel it even through the mask and the man waves his hand dismissively at Wade. “Offered him a job here, he took it—thirteen years, he worked here. _Thirteen._ Thought I coulda… coulda trusted him.”

“ _Tin can._ What happened?” he shifts and Tony looks horribly uncomfortable. He stares off into the distance and Wade frowns. “They were a mutant, right? So what did they _do?_ What can they do, huh?”

When Tony is about to pour himself another big glass of alcohol Wade brings out his gun and points it at the bottle and he jerks back. “No shooting! Don’t—don’t shoot – _Jesus fucking Hell,_ Deadpool. _Put tha’ gun the fffffuck down._ I won’ drink.” He retracts his hand and lets it fall on his lap. “You gon’ tell everythin’ to ‘em?”

Wade pauses. “Who?” he says, trying to play dumb as he widens his eyes. “Baby doll, if you don’t say it outright, how can daddypool talk to you if you’re being so _vague_ about it?”

Tony scowls something mighty at him. _“’Em._ Anachs. _Spiders._ ”

“What if I am?”

“Can’tcha wait ‘til it’s completely public?” Tony grumbles. “Spider’ll… try ta do somethin’ ‘bout it. Alone. Together.”

Wade narrows his eyes—but, will, the mask can only portray so much expression. “ _No.”_ Wade hisses out. “Are you going to tell me, or am I gonna have to go and fuck up your favourite bars to get you to actually tell me something?”

That seems to have hit the mark and Tony stares off into the distance. “Name’s Billie Yom—think so, ‘least. He…” Tony closes his eyes as he tries to remember, before they flutter open and Wade has to admit—he looks oddly sad right now. “D’no what his power is. Musta be somethin’… related to tech? Brought another mutant in too.

“Think she… she made someone add—no, she—Jarvis saw ‘em doin’ somethin’, but for some reason he didn’ tell me. Said at the time it just… wasn’ suspicious. Where wazzz I? Oh, ri’. She made someone add ‘er and Billie – thassis name, right? Got added to the system by Jarvis so they coulda get in and steal _my shit_ witout me noticin’.”

“Wow.” Wade says when Tony is just quiet after a while, looking awfully tired and he ignores that entirely. “So you got bamboozled by your own employee. That’s like, what, the tenth time that’s happened in two years now? Your people must _seriously_ hate you.”

Wade is going to be honest; he is expecting Tony to throw something at him. Maybe threaten him, or yell at him or whatever. He doesn’t expect the way Tony slumps and huffs, as though amused. “Yeah.” Tony manages out. “ _Really_ do. _You_ do too.”

“Only because you hate me first, tin can.”

Tony snorts. “Suuuure ya don’ wanna drink wi’f me?”

“Absolutely sure! Are _you_ sure ya wanna get drunk? You got a long flight to Bahrain tomorroooow…” Wade sings and it is at that very moment that Tony closes his eyes and lets his head smack on the table, completely out of it. “Well, that’s one way to end the conversation.”

**_{He’s so overdramatic! Hey, we should draw on his face with permanent marker!}_ **

**[We totally should.]**

**_{C’moooon Wadeypoo, grab the marker and draw, draw, draw on his face! Draw a DICK!}_ **

**[Or a dick going in a vagina.]**

**_{Draw some nasty ass sodomy on his face!}_ **

**[Oooo, that’s a good suggestion.]**

_‘Luckily for you two…’_ he reaches down into one of his pouches and brings out a permanent marker, perfect for situations like this. _‘I indeedydoo do have a marker.’_

**_{REVENGE!}_ **

**[Pettiness!]**

_‘Hell yeah!’_

Wade is probably going to be asleep by the time Tony wakes up and realises that he has ten dicks drawn on his face, but hey! At least everyone else going to Bahrain is going to have a big laugh at his expense. What more is there to love about permanent markers?

 

 

 

When he’s heading back to his apartment, Wade comes to the conclusion that it’s best to wait a bit before he tells Spider-gal and man anything about what’s going on over at Stark. He’s sure that they can wait a bit for their information.

* * *

“You sure this is a good idea?” Peter asks and looks around the small, Baskin Robbins shop, and Gwen just shrugs and sips her milkshake while he looks around. “I mean, why can’t we just wait on the roof-“

“Because we’re _always_ on the roof.” Gwen says and then continues to sip her milkshake as though everyone isn’t staring at her so intensely in the small, homey Baskin Robbins shop. Why is Peter constantly pointing out that the place is small?

 

Because he is here as Spider-man and Gwen is here as Spider-gal; on one hand, yes, he does crave ice cream and he currently has too much chocolate and very little strawberry in his ice cream cup, but on the other hand— _why_ can’t they be waiting on a roof or something?

And no, Peter is _not_ going to accept ‘we’re always on the roof’ as an answer. So what if they are? They’re the Spider-duo! That’s sort of their thing, isn’t it? “They’re kinda staring at us.” Peter says, and Gwen shrugs. “Are you _really_ not bothered by this?”

Again, she shrugs. “Your ice cream’s melting.” Gwen points out, as if that’s the most important thing in the world, and Peter frowns at her while he rolls his mask up so that he can eat his ice cream. “Deadpool _is_ getting here soon, right? It’s been twenty minutes…”

“D.P’s always late—seriously, why do you and Deadpool keep snickering whenever I say that? Stoppit.” He sighs and nibbles on the small plastic spoon for a bit, before he goes to eat a bit more ice cream. “I did get Wasp text ‘im for me though, so, I’uno, it’s his fault.”

“Mhm.” Gwen hums, backing away so that she can stir her milkshake ever so slightly with her red straw. “Sure, sure, Spidey. Keep your panties on.”

He rolls his eyes. “You like them off.” He points out with a smile on his lips and Gwen gigglesnorts _really_ loudly at that. She opens her mouth to say something, to tease back, though she’s immediately interrupted when someone crashes through the door and lands hard on the ground – clearly bleeding.

They stare at the person on the ground for a moment, look at each other, then let out a loud exasperated groan as everyone else starts yelling and screaming in panic. “Deadpool.” They say simultaneously and Peter stands up. “Everyone,” he says, “calm down. It’s just—it’s just Deadpool. He’s okay.”

“Get him out of here!” the manager yells out from where he’s exiting, and Peter and Gwen look at each other in defeat before he bends down to pick the unconscious Deadpool up and carry him outside. He drapes Deadpool over his shoulder – he’s _stupidly_ heavy; damn him and his stupid muscle mass – and Gwen toes at the broken bits of glass on the floor so that his way is a bit safer to walk through.

Everyone else just stares at them, Deadpool especially, and Peter tries to shrug it off as best he can while still carrying the unconscious idiot on his shoulder out. He pokes at Deadpool’s head and gets a groan in response; well, at least he’s waking up from his unconsciousness pretty quickly.

“Can we go to a roof _now?_ ” Peter asks as he looks over to Gwen who – much to his surprise – apparently manages to snag both her milkshake and his ice cream cup. He gets a shake of the head in response and he looks at her with as little amusement as possible.

Gwen just grins. “There’s a bench _right over there._ We’ll sit there and wait for Deadpool to wake up.”

“You really, _really_ don’t wanna be on a roof right now, do you?” Peter asks and he shifts Deadpool’s body around, pokes at his head again, and then stares back at Gwen.  “I don’t get why. _Roofs are our thing.”_

Gwen shrugs. “Need a change of pace, s’all.” She says, her attention going back onto her milkshake. “ ‘sides, it’s nice to be among the civs. It’s like, _bonding._ ”

“Gal, we don’t even _talk_ to them.”

“Still!”

He follows after Gwen towards the bench and, unceremoniously, he dumps Deadpool down to the farthest left and flops down onto the right of the bench, and Peter leans against Gwen when she takes a seat next to him. Within moments of Peter relaxing against Gwen, Deadpool sits up – ramrod straight – and stares at them both uncomprehendingly for a moment before his entire being beams.

“Baby boy! Baby girl! … This isn’t the ice cream shop!” he says, excitedly, and throws his arms out. “Did I stick the landin’? Did I? Did I do the superhero landing?”

“You crashed in through the door.” Peter says bluntly, before Gwen can even humour Deadpool, and he snickers at the comical look that he adopts at the news. “What were you even trying to do?”

Deadpool laughs awkwardly at that, rubs the back of his head, and looks around before shrugging. “I uh… I tried to swing and land like a superhero? … except, I cut my grapplin’ hook a bit too early.” Deadpool blinks – how does his mask do that? – when he seems to come to a realisation. “Are we… sitting… on a bench? On the sidewalk?”

“Yep.” Gwen says, finally passing over Peter’s ice cream to him and he gives her a blank look when he realises how melted his ice cream is now.

“Babe, doll, angel of my wet dreams—“ Peter sputters a little at that, but Deadpool merely pats him on the head and continues speaking. Peter can’t help but flutter his hood in annoyance at him, given that he can’t really _glare_ or anything. “—I _totally_ appreciate you draggin’ me around everywhere like your love slave-“

“ _Deadpool,”_ Peter hisses, “ _you are not her love slave.”_

Deadpool nods. “You’re right.” He says, almost sagely. “I’m _both_ your love slave. Anyway! Baby _boy,_ the doms are ta _lking_ here.” Gwen snorts so hard at that that Peter stares at her in worry, and she merely waves at him while she tries to muffle her laughter. “But—seriously, baby girl you can’t expect us to _talk in public about our buheeznuss_ can you?”

“No,” Gwen says, “we’re gonna swing up high to a roof after we’re done restin’. Today’s been a good day! No crime yet—“

“—well, we did run into criminals, they were just your standard run of the mill guys.”

“And I’m going to take advantage of the lack of villain todays and just… relax. Have some ice cream. I’uhno, play Pokémon go or something while we go on a walk! Have a _nice day_ of _nothing bad happening.”_

“You just jinxed us, do you know that, Gal?”

“… I did, didn’t I?” Deadpool just watches them as they go back and forth, his head tilting to the side and he lets out a soft ‘ah’ that neither Spiders pay attention to. “Well.” Gwen stretches and throws her milkshake over at the rubbish bin nearby. “We can deal with whatever. Anyway, Pool, sorry ya couldn’t get any ice cream. We didn’t know what you liked.”

“Don’t you worry baby girl! Didja miss _me_ at all, _baby boy?”_ Deadpool scoots over to Peter then and nudges at his side with elbow. “I looooooove the chocoholic’s resolution, beetee _dubs_. Just in case you want to get your _boyfriend_ an _ice cream dinner.”_

Peter very quickly shoots out a web at Deadpool’s face with a satisfying ‘thwip’ sound. “You’re not my boyfriend.” He quickly shoots off a web at Gwen’s arm when he _senses_ – no, he doesn’t even see it, but he _senses_ – her about to make a comment. “And _no,_ he is _not_ your boyfriend either.”

He finishes his ice cream quickly enough and Gwen makes some vague gestures towards a building and he stands up, picks Deadpool up with one hand with ease – Peter really doesn’t know why he makes a really strangled groan at being lifted – and he takes aim. Once his web has gotten hold of something, Peter jumps and swings away, and Gwen quickly follows after.

“You are way nicer to the people you save.” Deadpool jokes and Peter stares down at him with the least amount of amusement possible. When they land against the side of the building that Gwen is gesturing at, Peter begins to crawl up with Deadpool pressed against his side. “This is like a _dream_ come true.” Deadpool sighs, his hands curling at his cheeks, and Peter shakes his head while he climbs.

For all that Deadpool annoys him, his mannerisms give Peter a quiet sort of _calm._ It’s like when Gwen is around, being herself and naturally joking around. It’s this sort of ease that comes with knowing that nothing’s wrong, currently, with the people he…

_Hm._

With Gwen, he cares for her. With Deadpool, he just happens to have known him for a long, long time. It’s kind of hard to forget about someone who has been an odd stability in your life—that is, if Peter pushes aside the villain and such.

As it is, with Deadpool… he really has known him for far too long. He has known him from the times that Deadpool has tried to kill Gwen and him. He looks down at the rambling Deadpool for a moment or so, takes in his excited and _very_ distracting gesturing, and then looks back up just as Gwen quietly lands next to him.

She reaches over and rolls Peter’s mask down and Deadpool’s attention goes from him and over to her. He doesn’t pay attention to Deadpool when he starts going on and on about something to Gwen, voice high pitched in excitement, and Peter wriggles a little when he feels squirming against his side. “Do you _want_ me to drop you?” Peter asks sharply, and Deadpool stops moving.

He absolutely does not stop talking. Which, good. Peter feels more assured when he is, after all, talking than when Deadpool is quiet.

Peter can’t ever tell what is going on with Deadpool when he’s dead silent… Deadsilent… _Silentpool._ Wait, where is he going with this?

… Anyway.

When he’s at the top, he lets go of Deadpool and very quickly grabs the back of his suit again and manages to aim and throw him up – _“HOLY SHIT I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS!”_ – and he flinches at the pained yell that he gets in response. “Why did you do that?” Gwen asks, exasperation clear in his voice, and Peter sinks into himself a little bit.

Peter looks down at his hand, at the top where Deadpool gives them the middle finger, and then backs to Gwen. “Uh.” Does Peter have a reason for throwing Deadpool up there? “Spur of the moment?” No, no he does not.

They leave it at that and instead make it up to the top where Deadpool is busy rubbing at his back, grumbling about _stupid spiders and their god damn super stupid strength._ “Were you able to get anything from Iron Man? Or, hell, Tony Stark even?” Gwen says immediately, not even waiting for Deadpool or Peter to lead up to it, and she marches over to him with her hands on her hips and she bends down a bit. “What about the thing I sent you to translate? Were you able to get anything from it?”

“Whoa, whoa. First of all, babe, kinda Avengers confidentiality here. Kinda can’t tell you a thin’ until it’s been okayed by the people at the top!” Before Gwen can even say something in response to that, Deadpool hastily continues talking. “Besides, Iron Man’s off to Bahrain with his little prissy queen, Tony; I don’t really got much to say.”

“Bahrain.” Gwen says, blankly, and her gaze is as blank as her voice probably. “So… m’takin’ some of the big guys are gone to Bahrain, huh? … Wonder why.”

Deadpool shrugs. “Can’t tell you. Y’know, Avengers business and all that. And—and with the translation? Sorry sweetheart, I was busy with work from SHIELD that I didn’t get time to actually translate it.”

Meanwhile, Peter himself is standing at the back with his arms crossed and his hands loosely around his elbows. Something doesn’t feel right the more Peter thinks about it, but he really doesn’t have much to say. Well, it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have anything to say because all of them jerk when they hear a loud _booming_ sound from nearby, his heart dropping to the pits of his stomach.

“Shit.” Gwen cries out as she turns around and rushes over to the edge, her posture tense and Peter feels just as tense. “No time to talk about this! _We gotta go!”_ she looks over her shoulder to Deadpool and looks back to Peter. “Both of you! We need to get going—Deadpool, hop on—I feel like we’re gonna need _all_ the help we can get.”

* * *

Gwen hates it when she’s absolutely right. She has gone and jinxed it, and she has definitely ruined their chance to go to the arcade today. Peter’s following behind her with Deadpool mounted on his back, awfully quiet alongside the Spiders as they swing over to where they can assume the explosion is, and Gwen exhales shakily.

Getting there… getting there immediately makes her want to freak the hell out. She lands behind a bit of debris and Peter follow after her, landing silently despite the extra weight on his back, and Gwen peeks up and over the debris to see what’s going on.

She sees Iron Men.

 

Or rather, she sees people wearing old, iron men suits with AGMG written on their chests—sure, the suit doesn’t look new, but Gwen can’t deny the absolute damage it’s doing as four out of ten of the suit wearers shoot off more blaster beams.

“Well, fuck.” Deadpool says, his breath escaping him in a shaky exhale. “How the fuck…?”

Her eyes narrow. “So, I betcha don’t know if this is recent or not, huh?” Gwen says more than she asks, and Peter is terribly quiet as he stares off at the ten people flying in outdated Iron Suits. “Why are they…?”

“I don’t know.” Deadpool says.

“We need a plan.” Peter says suddenly. “Can you two deal with the – what do we even call them? AGMGers? Whatever- just… can you two deal with them?”

Deadpool nods. “You _know_ I can, baby boy.”

“And I’m _definitely_ gonna beat their faces in when I get my hands on them.” Gwen says in a hiss, her body itching with the urge to fight. “There might be people in the buildings they’re attackin’—you gonna go after them?”

“Yep.” Peter says, his hands spread on the ground in his crouch. “But I _need_ you two to, I’uhno, distract them—chase them off. _Something._ ”

At that, Deadpool lets out a noise that makes Peter and her focus on him and he rubs his hands together, as though trying to ease his nerves. “I _might_ have an idea? _Bihiihiiig_ might, so, don’t expect too much from me— _but_ I think they haven’t fixed a teensy problem that the old suits had…” he peeks up quickly and the Spider-duo follow, and Gwen can’t help the itchiness that gets worse when she watches them round up hostages.

“Look at the back of the suits— _riiiight_ in the middle of their back, there.” He points over to what he’s talking about and Gwen squints at the small bit of design; a panel? “If you strike there, the suits just _completely stop working._ ‘Course, normally they’re _super hard to hit_ because that fucker’s paranoid as hell with the shit he does-“

Peter smacks him. “Not the time.”

“Right! Right. I betcha Gallybabe and I can deal with it—the suit should be thick enough to deal with bullets, and my sweetcheeks is probably fast and precise enough too.”

“Then Spidey can round up the hostages and save ‘em, and we’d be able to take these guys in for questionin’!”

“Rather,” Deadpool says hastily, “I gotta take ‘em back to Avengers HQ.”

Gwen reaches over to pet Peter when she can practically feel his disappointment at the idea. “Got’cha. Spidey, let’s separate. Deadpool, we’ll think up of a battle strategy as we go. C’mon!”

Fighting the iron suit clad bad guys is harder than Gwen expects. Probably because she has never really, understandably, fought against Iron Man before—on the rare occasions that Peter and she are helping the Avengers on, Gwen has never really made it her duty to understand how Iron Man fights.

Not that it really matters given that these people still _aren’t_ Iron Man. She throws Deadpool out in front of them and quickly shoots a web off at the back of supposed leader and she grunts as she makes an effort to try and throw the leader away from the group of hostages.

And Deadpool?

 

Deadpool throws a grenade right at the other nine, and they all yell in surprise and scatter as quickly as they can to avoid the grenade. With _a lot of panic,_ Gwen jumps up and grabs the grenade, wraps it up in a web, and throws it as hard as she can to get it away from the civilians nearby.

“What the _fuck,_ Deadpool?!” Gwen yells as the grenade goes off, and Deadpool laughs sheepishly. “What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“It worked!” Deadpool cries out in response, though she doesn’t really get a chance to lecture him when they both have to dodge away from a blaster shot from in between them. “Talk later, fight now!” With an exaggerated groan, Gwen turns away from Deadpool to instead face the ten _very_ pissed off looking attackers and she clenches her hands into fists.

 _‘Shit.’_ Gwen thinks as her spider-sense goes haywire and she dodges away quickly, Deadpool jumping opposite of her when four people begin to focus on her and six on him. She shoots off a quick web, using it more to travel than to actually swing up and away and she flips to the left when two simultaneous shot are sent her way. “So I take it we can’t talk this out?!” Gwen yells out and she’s only met with outraged cries instead.

Very briefly, she glances over to Deadpool and breathes out a sigh of relief when she sees him dancing and… hopping, guns blazing, away from the hostages.

She focuses back on her attackers, brings her hands up in a fighting stance and keeps her legs parted, and Gwen glares as her spider-sense goes off with increasing intensity.

* * *

While the two focus on fighting, Peter slinks away from his hiding spot and makes his way through the debris. “Spider-man!” Someone cries out when he gets near and Peter straightens up and looks around to make sure that  _no one_ hears him being called out.

“Shhh!” Peter shushes quickly. “I need you all to _stay quiet.”_ He murmurs under his breath as he counts over the amount of hostages and his mouth twists.

There are at least twenty-six of them. Five of them seem to be kids, three of which are curling against two women (their mothers?), and the other two are separate and attached to their own parents. There are two elderly and the rest are adults.

He glances over to the fight going on nearby and purses his lips. He can’t swing them away _here—_ he’ll be seen certainly… he’s going to have to lead them away to the back of the ruined building. “I need you all to follow me.” Peter says, hushed and quiet, and he’s lucky that they all seem to be quiet.

Save for two of the children; they seem to be close to tears. His heart clenches up at that, so he quickly moves and gestures at them to follow him as he leads them through the rubble. Thanking God for the super-strength that he is given, Peter shoves the rubble away as quietly and swiftly as he can so that he can lead the group of hostages away.

He keeps checking over his shoulder and when Peter can’t see Gwen, Deadpool or the attackers anymore he finally relaxes. “Spider-man?” someone asks – it’s an old woman, looking so tired and scared and Peter thinks of Aunt May and his heart clenches so hard it _hurts._ “Are we… are going to be okay?” her voice is very small, her hand clenching at her chest, and the other elderly – an old man with a tough yet wary – comes over to put his hands on her shoulders.

“Layla,” he says, then proceeds to speak in Spanish and Peter flushes when he can’t understand what he’s saying. He hasn’t studied up on his Spanish in a long while – he really needs to take it up again. “Please, tell me we’re safe.” The man says, looking up at Peter with the most upset pair of eyes ever, and he doesn’t miss the way the man is trembling horribly.

Peter looks at the other hostages, at the mothers that have to comfort their crying kids, and he looks back at the elder pair before him. “Yes,” Peter says with a heavy exhale, “I’m going to call for back-up from the police—I _need_ you all to stay out of sight. Hide away while Spider-gal and Deadpool fight ‘em off—“

“Will you stay?” a young boy asks and Peter looks at him helplessly. “Wh—what if more comes? Please stay! Please, please!”

He can’t really say no to that, so Peter nods and helps everyone huddle up. He pays the most attention to the elderly pair and the children than he does the rest of the adults while he stays on guard with them.

Not once, Peter is grateful that Gwen has become Spider-gal. Who knows where Peter will be if she didn’t decide to join him, a few years later?

A small pair of arms wraps around his midriff and he looks down to see a girl hugging him and the father (single?) looks at him apologetically but Peter doesn’t say anything as he cradles the little girl against him.

For now, he hopes that Gwen and Deadpool are able to chase the attackers away while he reaches for his phone to call for help.

 

Why do the Avengers have to be gone now? When he actually _needs_ their help, they aren’t around. Peter tries to shove his bitterness down, trying to remind himself that he is just a kid when they failed him the last time.

Just a kid. Right now isn’t the time to be angry and bitter, anyway. There are twenty-six scared people in a shitty situation, and Peter doesn’t know if the enemies are going to have more reinforcements sooner or later.

If the Avengers aren’t going to be here, then he hopes that the police are able to do well enough on their own or get some help.

* * *

It’s been only ten minutes, but Gwen is feeling the aches of hours of fighting as she slams against the side of a building again. Despite the advice Deadpool has given her, she can’t seem to get an opportunity to attack their weakpoint besides the one that she manages to get down. Deadpool seems to be faring better, but he has managed to incapacitate only half of his own attackers.

Peter isn’t around.

But then again, neither are the hostages.

As long as the hostages are safe, then it doesn’t matter that they’ve been fighting for what feels far too long. Her body is trying, desperately, to heal up the burns that are appearing on her body but Gwen is more than aware that without Dr. Din’s help that they’re going to be there for _weeks._

There is _a lot_ of destruction around them and Gwen inhales and exhales shakily. The pain is finally catching up to her, yet she still dodges sharp and quick when two more blasts are sent her way. She lands shakily on her feet and backs away and bumps against something, in which she really quickly tries to backhand.

“Whoa! It’s me!” a familiar voice says as he catches her arm and Gwen grunts when she recognises it as Deadpool. She yanks her arm out of his hold and crouches a little, her hands spread in open palms to her sides. “You don’t look good, Spider-gal.”

Again, Gwen grunts. “Been through worse.” She says, her voice horribly strained, and she breathes hard. “Just—just gotta focus on _‘em._ ” The six attackers surround them both and Gwen raises her fists up, the desire to fight getting bigger and she narrows her eyes.

She is _definitely_ going to kick their fucking asses.

Just as they’re about to attack her, Gwen’s eyes tense up when one of them yells, electricity surrounding them and their suit goes completely haywire as they go crashing. With the rest of them being surprised, Gwen shoots both hands up and manages to web two of them and she brings them crashing to the ground.

Hurriedly, she rips off one of the panel covers and punches the mess of… _whatever_ hard enough to hear the suit completely shutdown.

The other person manages to fire off and away from her and Gwen barely manages to get away in time from the fire of the rocket feet— _and fuck, does it hurt._ However, with six down, the other four quickly retreat and Gwen lets out a sigh of relief.

“Hawkiepooooos!” Deadpool yells out and Gwen glances over to see both Kate and Clint being grabbed into a big bear hug by him. “You saved us! Sooo, which Hawkeye did it, huh? Hawkeye?” Deadpool flicks Kate’s arm and she laughs, a pretty sound. “Or Hawkeye Jr.?” he pinches Clint’s butt when he asks and the yelp he lets out is _comical._

“As much as I _adore_ you teasin’ Clint,” Kate says, “he doesn’t have his hearing aid in right now.” At that, Deadpool stops and lets go of them both and moves in front of Clint, rolls up his mask so that his lips are visible, and then very quickly signs towards him what he said previously.

“That’d be me; the _best_ Hawkeye.” Kate says and she swings her arm over Clint’s shoulders and she ruffles his hair when the man protests before letting her arm drop. “We got a call from SHIELD that a bunch of people dressed up in princess’s old suits are attacking. Said that Spider-man called the police, and the police called ‘em.”

Gwen makes her way next to Deadpool and rolls her own mask up so that Clint can understand her – she makes a note to ask Peter to have them learn sign language – and she waves. “Hey. Thought the A-team went to Bahrain?”

Clint gives Deadpool a _look_ and he lets out a nervous laugh at that. “Nah, we had business here. Widow an’ Wasp were busy somewhere else too. No thank you for our assist, Spider-gal?” Clint teases and Gwen relaxes a little. Of all the Avengers, the Hawkeyes are definitely the best. “Though, feels more like we arrived late.”

“Better late than never.” Kate points out and separates from Clint so that she can go and check up on the two unconscious attackers near them when SHIELD _finally_ makes themselves known and begin to go and gather them up. “Where’s Spider-man?”

“With the hostages.” Gwen answers and she looks over to the ruined building where they last are seen, and she breathes out when Peter comes out while holding two kids and being followed by a bunch of other people. “This went better than expected.”

Now that is all said and done they all go awkwardly quiet. Gwen shifts around and crosses her arms, waiting for Peter to get over to them, and he eventually arrives while scratching the back of his head.

Needless to say, both spiders look awkward while Deadpool looks right at home as he swings his arms over both Hawkeyes’ shoulders and grins wide. Taking notice of their masks, Peter quickly rolls his own up and clears his throat. “So…” Peter begins. “Thanks for the help. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help out, but there were kids and they were _really scared_ and I couldn’t say not to helping them and-“

“Spidey. Calm down, it’s okay.” Gwen bumps he forehead against Peter’s and closes her eyes, merely enjoying the fact he’s next to her before she lets out a really strong hiss at the pain that flares up again. Yep, she forgot about that; she’s very good at this whole self-care business, isn’t she? “Lessgo. M’gonna need like, ten burgers for this.”

With that said, she wraps around Peter’s side and rests her head on his and he rubs her back carefully. “We’re gonna go and m’gonna have Gal be treated for her wounds. You uh… do your business. Bye, Hawkeyes, Deadpool.” Before any of the Avengers can say anything, Peter’s webbing off and Gwen’s knocked out cold against his side.

 

Kate and Clint share a look, before they look up at Deadpool who’s frowning. He lets his arms drop from their shoulders and places his hands on his hips, his gaze focusing elsewhere. “C’mon Dip,” Kate begins and Deadpool jolts in surprise at the sound of her voice. “We gotta take ‘em back to HQ and see if we can get anythin’ out of them.”

“Tony’ll be comin’ back in a week.” Clint grumbles out as SHIELD agents practically stomp past the three Avengers with the captured baddies in tow. “We can ask ‘im about this all later; for now, interrogation first then we gotta make a public statement… damn.”

Deadpool rubs at his own face when he hears that and lets out a far too agitated groan. “When I thought of becomin’ an Avenger, I thought of all the _fame_ and good I’d do! I didn’ think I’d be _busy_ tryin’ to make myself not look like shit!”

“You’re Deadpool.” Kate says. “You’re always working on that.”

“… I hate it when you make good points. _This_ is why you are the supeereeya Hawkeye, ya know that?” Deadpool sighs and wiggles his hips and Kate barks out quick laughter. Clint merely covers his face with his palms, murmuring something about how he really needs sleep right now. “See you back at the tower?”

“Uh uh, sorry Dip, you’re comin’ with us _now.”_ Kate chastises.

Clint speaks up again, finally. “You fought ‘em firsthand, so we need _you_ to make the report. We just got here reeeeal late, bud.” Deadpool slumps and Clint pets his shoulder comfortingly and apologetically. “Sorry, thems the rules.”

He groans. “I _hate_ making reports!” Deadpool says with a sudden burst of energy and Clint squints his eyes before he pets Deadpool’s shoulder again.

“I do too. Anyway, the faster we get back to the tower, the faster we can get this all done and over with. Hungrier than a pack of wolves, here.”

“Oh man, let’s have some tacos before we go back!” Deadpool gasps and Clint is about to say no, only for Kate to smack her hand onto his mouth.

He glares at Kate and she only gives him a bright grin in response. “Let’s get some tacos!” she sings and Deadpool fistbumps the air at the suggestion. “Tacos, tower, then torture!”

“Hell _yeah,_ torture!”

“There won’t be any actual torture.” Kate says quickly, and Deadpool deflates faster than a popped balloon. “But anyway… my stomach’s digestin’ itself! C’moooon, let’s go! I’ll be drivin’ the Hawkmobile!” she lets go of Clint’s mouth as he says that, and she ignores his protests that _no, we do not have a Hawkmobile we just have a car!_ and leads the way.

Deadpool happily skips after his two favourite Avengers… excluding Cap’n, of course. No Avenger is better than good ol’ Captain America. This’ll be a good time to catch up on all the shit he has missed out with the Hawkeyes; they’ve been busy for a _month_ in Afghanistan trying to deal with the anti-mutant forces there.

Given that a surprisingly amount of people in Afghanistan are mutants – most of them have simple mutant powers, while there are some who act as the superheroes of the country – Deadpool doesn’t have to stress how kind of _devastating_ it will be if the anti-mutant forces won out.

… still, he’s kind of upset that his date with the spiders is interrupted with the attack. He’s going to have to tell them what he has learned, sooner or later, and then try to drag more out of the group that attacked them.

The guilt won’t go away otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to the entire Hamilton soundtrack like a few days ago and _fucking Alexander Hamilton._


	7. Intermission: Seriously, visit your aunt more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Gwen head off to go and drop off some brownies, Indian food and some nice new clothes for aunt May. They haven't seen her in a while, given that they are - you know - _busy_ and successful. But that is no excuse to not see aunt May!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every once in a while, I'd like to write short, one-shot chapters or two-shots or whatever to maybe give myself a break while also hopefully filling in anything I forgot to do or work on in the fic itself. Besides, I wanted to really introduce aunt May into the story just so that I can show what kind of dynamic she has with Gwen and Peter! Though, if the other chapters are available or you just don't wanna read these, you are more than welcome to skip these!
> 
> For appearances/what aunt May looks like, I recommend going with the 1994 animated version of aunt May.

He’s holding a small box of brownies in his hands as he heads over to aunt May’s house, Gwen walking alongside him with the Indian food in a bag in one hand and a bag of new dresses in the other. They’re both walking in relative silence, interrupted only every once in a while when a tune hits either of them and they start humming out whatever hits their fancy.

If Peter and Gwen are to actually walk to where his aunt is situated in Queens from their apartments, the walk will be more like a good few hours with a lot of bus rides. However, as it is, being able to web around and then have your suits hide away in your watch is probably the most useful thing that can happen to them.

“Don’t you think brownies and Indian food is the weirdest combination ever?” Gwen asks as they are getting closer and closer to aunt May’s house. Peter raises an eyebrow at her and shrugs his shoulders at that. “I’uhno, just seems super weird to me.”

Peter shakes his head and waves it off with his free hand. “It’s us; I’m sure aunt May’ll expect this by now.” With that said, Peter leans on Gwen for a bit and she hums and smiles down at him. “I’m hopin’ aunt May’ll lemme talk to her ‘bout some of my problems, lately.” Peter admits after a while and Gwen snorts.

“You should get an _actual_ therapist, you know. I mean, I’m sure Frankie won’t mind lending us his therapist… he’s been doing so well with her!” Gwen says and she bumps him lightly with her hip and Peter rolls her eyes at her. “Just don’t feel _too_ guilty, okay? What do you wanna talk to her about anyway?”

At that, Peter starts chewing on his lower lip and goes silent for a bit. Gwen doesn’t say anything else and she lets her eyes wander a bit, focusing here and there while Peter thinks to himself. There are a _lot_ of things Peter wants to talk about May; one being the experimental cybernetic arms, really. They are brand new and based off of his own design rather than Stark tech; he doesn’t want to _copy,_ he absolutely _does not,_ but they’re also… clunkier than he wants them to be.

He’s going to be honest. It is almost horribly discouraging to see how clunky the new cybernetic arms are, but Peter is still determined to have them made and mass-produced _without_ all of the Spider-tech he has in his own arms.

Attempting accessibility is so very difficult. He rubs his face with his hand, very gently, before he turns to look back at Gwen. “I mostly wanna talk to her about Deadpool.”

Gwen stops in her steps, stares at him, and then looks up at the sky as though she’s waiting for some sort of divine intervention and Peter snickers. “You want to talk to our dear sweet aunt May—“

“Technically not your aunt!”

“—about Deadpool, the merc with the mouth? The emissary of misery? The minister of miserable masochistic moments?”

“I… don’t get the last one… if you wanna maybe elaborate—”

“Okay, I kinda, don’t get the last one either? I really don’t know why I said that-“

“Why do you do these things, Gwen?”

She gives a very exaggerated shrug and shakes her head. “It’s part of my nature! You know I can’t help it, Pete, it’s like… it’s like when I gotta have my pumpkin spice latte with a bit of bourbon in it!”

Peter blinks very slowly and stares at her, both of them standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and he squints at her. “You don’t drink pumpkin spice latte.” Peter says accusatorily and Gwen shrugs and gives a goofy grin.

“Ya got me! I don’t at all. I just drink coffee with lots of sugar and cream. I don’t know shit about coffee.” With a shared smile, they both go back to walking the small distance left to aunt May’s. It’s way too warm, but there are constant cool winds that come and go and Peter can’t wait to be in May’s nice house, with the nice air-conditioning and the nice homey look and the fact that his aunt is there.

His smile grows wider when they’re both finally at aunt May’s door. He can’t hold back his enthusiasm when he knocks on her door, always so happy to see his aunt whenever he has the time, and the moment she opens the door and smiles up at him in the sweetest way possible Peter has immediately hugged her with one arm.

“Aunt May!” Peter calls out enthusiastically and the laughter he gets from her warms his heart considerably, and he can’t help but feel even happier when she hugs him back. “I missed you so much! I’m so sorry for not being around lately, but I baked brownies!”

“I cooked Indian food!” Gwen calls out from behind and May laughs once more as she backs away from Peter and moves away to go and hug her as well. She doesn’t return the hug as well, trying to be careful with the Indian food in her hands, and she kisses the top of May’s head affectionately. “Missed you too, auntie.”

“Oh, you two constantly look so much more mature every time you visit.” May says when she goes back to stand at the doorway, her face crinkling wonderfully with her smile and Peter gives her a big, toothy grin. “Come in, come in! Take a seat, and we’ll start eating. You _did_ make sure that my Peter’s portion isn’t too much for his sensitive tongue, right?”

He can’t help but let free an exaggerated groan at that. “Aunt Maaaaaaay! I’ve gotten _better_ with spicy food!”

“ _Baaaaarely!_ I’ve been trying super hard, auntie, like, really hard to make Pete’s taste buds stronger. I promise he’ll be able to handle the hot shit makers.”

May laughs uproariously while they get into the house, Gwen kicking the door shut and Peter gives her a horrified look. “I’m _sure_ he’ll be strong enough eventually, sweetpea.” Her eyes practically glow and Peter just groans and tries not to react to the way Gwen looks at him smugly. “I’m so glad you two came—I was _just_ about to watch my show. Do you two wanna join me?”

He flushes happily and nods, and Gwen smiles down at him before grinning at aunt May. “We’d _love_ to watch your old lady shows, auntie.”

“Hey!” Peter sticks his tongue out at her and Gwen sticks her own back out. “Be nice to my aunt!”

May’s happy laughter is worth acting so childishly, Peter thinks. They have to reheat the food and Peter puts the brownies away for later eating, but they do sit down and enjoy some homemade food while they watch a show that May seems to be interested in.

He doesn’t pay much attention to it; it _does_ look neat, though; Stranger Things, or something like that? Peter needs to take note to watch it when he has the time. He doesn’t eat much – unlike Gwen, who seems to be _practically famished_ and May who is done with her food already – and Peter shifts a tiny bit uncomfortably.

“Aunt May?” Peter says when the episode is done and May looks over at him with her overly expressive eyes and a lot of tension immediately leaves him at her look. “Do you think I could… I mean, may I talk to you about my Spidey business?”

Gwen shifts and leans back against the sofa, opting to be quiet for this and May places both of her hands atop of Peter’s, so small and frail in comparison to his prosthesis. “Of course, dear.” May says, sweetly. “Though, you’re going to have to make it up with me by playing Monopoly afterwards—“

“Aunt May!” Peter gasps. “You know I’m _awful_ at that! How could you ask me such a thing? I’m hurt! Offended!”

“Oh come now, you’ve thicker skin than that.” May teases. “But really, dear, what has been bothering you?”

He looks around and fidgets a little bit and a very small, gentle pink flush spreads on his cheeks. “You know Deadpool?” Peter asks and at May’s blank look, he decides to elaborate. “Black and red, used to be a mercenary?”

Her eyes gleam in recognition and she nods slowly. “Yes, yes, I’ve seen him on the news complimenting your butt-“

“May!” Peter cries out, aghast, while Gwen stifles her maniac cackling. “Shooshhhhosh! Don’t—don’t mention that! That’s so embarrassing!”

All he gets in response is a very irritable sigh, as though Peter’s indignation is absolutely exasperating to her. “I’ve seen Gwen smack your butt in front of me far too many times, dear.” May says and Peter turns a bright, tomato red while Gwen finally starts cackling. Eventually, she has to stand up and leave when her laughter gets really loud just so that Peter and May can talk.

He clears his throat and tries to ignore how hot his face feels. “Y-yes, it’s that one. The one who—who compliments my butt. I… I need to talk to you about him.”

“Has he been bothering you, dear?”

“No, no! I can defend myself if he does, don’t worry aunt May. It’s just that… he _loves_ Spider-man and Spider-gal, but he _really hates Peter Parker.”_

There’s a bit of silence that hangs over them both while May tries to digest what Peter has told her. She frowns at him, her brows furrowing together, and she looks side to side and then back to him. Her hands retreat back to her own lap and fold over each other, her gaze sharp and her posture suddenly tense. “What do you mean, sweetie?”

He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, his eyes wondering over to the dresses folded on the dinner table and Peter eventually looks back at her with a sheepish smile. “When I became CEO after this whole Pipper business,” Peter says, “Deadpool seemed to suddenly _hate_ me. Not me as Spider-man! He still thinks I’m… I’m the greatest.

But he’s been… trying to recruit me for his mercs for money lately. But it’s just… I don’t even know what I’ve done to make Deadpool _hate_ me?” Peter says with a frown and May is looking at him with such a surprisingly intense look and he kind of wants to crumble. “I don’t… know what to do. I want him to stop trying to _hire_ me all the time, but he’s also… kind of fun to be around?”

May shifts around a bit, yet she still looks at him very carefully and with a now worried gaze. “Dear,” May says, “Deadpool… won’t do anything to you as Peter Parker, would he? _Not as Spider-man,_ heavens no, but…”

“But I can’t give myself away.” Peter finishes for her. Then he hesitates a bit, thumbs pressing against one another and Peter raises and slumps one shoulder at a time. “I… I know. But I absolutely believe that he won’t do anything to me—but… well…”

“Have you even _asked_ him why he doesn’t like Peter Parker?”

He flinches. He really, really has been hoping that May won’t ask but… she’s too smart for him. “I… _maaay_ or may not keep arguing with him every time I try?” he squeaks out and he gives the most sheepish grin he has ever given someone when May stares at him with a _very_ unamused face. “I know! I know!”

At the same time that May says, “I raised you better,” Peter also says “you raised me better” and makes a few vague gestures with his hands. “I taught you better than to lose your temper like that, _especially_ now that you’re Spider-man! What will everyone think?”

“Jonah’s been doing a good job of making everyone hate me?”

“And you and I both know that that is poppycock! The city loves you, dear! But really, you should know better than to argue when you can do much better than that. You’re not Dr. Octavius, dear.” He looks away as shame burns at his face, his hands curling into tight fists, and he can practically feel May’s gaze soften on him. “Do you think you can tell me why you feel so angry?”

Peter exhales shakily. “He… he thinks I’m a scumbag. Me, as in Peter me, not Spidey-me. I’m… I really don’t know why but.” Peter runs his hands through his hair, unnecessarily careful that his hair doesn’t get stuck. “I don’t know _what_ I’ve done, but Deadpool is _absolutely convinced_ that I’ve done something evil! Me! I’m giving to charities, I’m aiding in a lot of research! _I have a clean record!_ What’ve I done, aunt May?”

For a moment, the tension in the air is a bit too heavy. He is tense and he swallows thickly while May tries to gather her thoughts and Peter ruffles his own hair aggressively. He looks over his shoulders, hoping to see Gwen around anywhere, and Peter gives the tiniest smile when he catches sight of her in the archway and she gives him a two-finger hello.

Shifting around a bit, Peter looks back at May and she looks at him with the most apologetic look one can manage. “Dear…” she begins hesitantly, uncertain, and she reaches out with one frail hand. “Do you think that Dr. Octavius did anything?”

He freezes up.

“There… there may have been a moment where you weren’t aware of what Dr. Octavius was doing, Peter.” May continues on, her voice still uncertain. “I doubt it’s anything bad, but – but someone might have started a rumour?”

Peter furrows his brow and he grabs her hand gently, tracing over wrinkles and spots on her skin, and he gives May a disarming smile after a bit. “I don’t think Doc Ock did anything.” His voice is a bit shaky as he says that, but he inhales sharply through his nose and shakes his head. “I was there—even… even barely. I _was_ there. Doc Ock couldn’ta done anything to Deadpool as _me._

It has to be something else, May. But… but thank you for talking to me.” He brings her hand up and kisses her knuckles. “Thank you so much aunt May.” He pauses. “So… you wanna play that Monopoly now, aunt May?”

“I am so gonna kick your ass, Pete!” Gwen calls out loudly, and May laughs loudly as she moves away from Peter to go and get the game board. “Hope you’re ready to lose, babe!”

“I may be _super bad at this,_ ” Peter calls out just as loudly, “but I am _so hoping_ my aunt wins!”

“You are _on!_ ”

 

In the end, aunt May _does_ end up winning and she laughs the sweetest laugh while Peter aggressively rubs at his face with his hands. The rest of his stay with aunt May is spent with them watching _really cheesy_ romance movies, most of which she complains about while Gwen and Peter make faces at some of the surprisingly _stalkery_ romances that are produced.

“Thank you _so much_ for letting us come over.” Gwen says as she kisses May’s forehead and Peter follows her lead immediately afterwards. “We’ll try and call, okay? You are _super amazing_ auntie, and I seriously hope you get yourself a nice young man with those dresses.”

“Gweeeeeen!” Peter whines. “Don’t talk about my aunt that way! That’s… that’s so uncomfortable!”

She playfully smacks his side and he sticks his tongue out at her and Gwen snickers. “Don’t mind him, dear.” May says, amusement clear in her voice. “He just doesn’t want to talk about his poor, old aunt’s libido!”

“No!” Peter protests. “No I don’t!”

Gwen pecks his forehead then, effectively shutting his protests up, and she smiles at May widely. After some time, he can’t help but melt at the warmth that the two give out. “Thank you, aunt May.” He says, extremely sincere. “We’ll call when we get home, okay? Make sure to be on skype!”

“Of course, dear. Of course. Now, off you go! I bet both my successful children are _very busy._ Auntie’s got a lot of movies to watch.”

Peter laughs. “‘course, aunt May! See ya!”

“Goodbye, Peter! Gwen!”

When the door is closed, Gwen and he share a quick kiss before they disappear somewhere and come back as their spider halves so that they can make up for the patrol they have missed while hanging out with aunt May.

 

 

[And doubt lingers as Peter wonders if Doc Ock really _did_ do something as Peter to make Deadpool hate him so much.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My uni is going to be starting next week, so things might get pitifully slow because I have a very full schedule. I'm really, really sorry about that!


	8. Deception's the mother of all things wonderful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of violence warning here! Just mild punching and smacking around. And an awful bite.

Gwen’s still busy at his company when Deadpool falls next to Peter. He jolts in surprise from the hard _thump_ from a heavy fall next to him and he stares up at Deadpool with big, wide-eyed surprise even though the other can’t see it. “Deadpool?” Peter asks, crouching at the very edge of the roof and he stands up slowly before stepping back. “Did ya break anything over there?”

“Nah, _naaaw,_ I’m good!” Deadpool says and then grunts afterwards as he stands up and starts cracking his joints, and Peter winces at how _gross_ some of the cracks sound. “What’re you doing here all by your lonesome, baby boy? Where’s Gallyboo?” He looks around and falls into a squat, bringing his hand up to his forehead so that he can look around intently. “Seems to me the Spidey’s without his Spiduh!”

Peter crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side, staring at Deadpool, and the other smiles at him so widely that it is apparent through his mask. “Spider-gal’s busy with Peter Parker right now,” he says, slowly, “but she’ll be here eventually.”

The air immediately sours at the mention of Peter’s full name, and there is a _lot_ of air to sour with them being, you know, out in the open. He tilts his head back and tenses up, his spider-sense starting to hum ever so slightly as Deadpool’s expression completely evens out. “Parker, huh. You’re _still_ working for him?”

“Of course I am.” Peter says, a bit too sharply now that he thinks about it. “Why _wouldn’t_ I be? I’m his _bodyguard!_ I kinda have to work with him for his _safety.”_

Deadpool’s eyes – his _mask’s_ eyes – narrow and Peter steps back a bit so that he at least has enough distance to be safe from anything the other tries to do. “How much is he paying you?” Deadpool suddenly asks and Peter jolts in surprise at that.

“What?” is the only response Peter can give at that, caught completely off-guard, and he can’t bring himself to say anything else.

“Tell me.  How much is Parker paying you? I bet I can double it—no, _triple it!_ I’m rooming with the succubus queen, don’t gotta pay for rent, so I can pay you all you want.”

Peter gawks at Deadpool, his mask stretching to accommodate his dropped jaw, and he just has _nothing_ to say to that. What is—?

“I don’t want you to pay me more than Parker!” Peter sputters out, which _ew,_ and he balls his hands into tight fists. “I don’t _need_ it! I’m doing it for free, anyway!” he grits his teeth, his face flushing from the embarrassment at having to _lie_ about his own damn employment for _no one._ Why does this keep happening to him? “Are you—are you saying I’m really that shallow?”

Deadpool is up on his feet then and his spider-sense starts to hum a bit louder, aching at the back of his head and Peter glares at him. “For free? _Naw,_ there has to be a reason—is he _bribing_ you? Baby boy, is Parker blackmailing you, huh? There is _no way you’d work for him for free if—_ do you even know what kind of person he is!?”

“I know way better than you do!” Peter nearly yells back, his hands shaking from how hard he has them clenched into fists, and something in him is—is definitely hurting. “What is _wrong_ with you and Peter?! Have you even met him? What the _hell!_ ” he tries not to punch something or web Deadpool in his frustration and, instead, begins to count to ten under his breath very quickly.

Why does he care so much about this? _Why is he getting so angry?_

“Are you sure?! Are you?! Because I know _shit_ about Parker that you seem _horribly ignorant to,_ baby boy! How the fuck are you okay with working with the guy who—he’s a villain! A grade A scumbag! Why are you so dense!?”

“Dense?! I’m dense? You’re the one who—who— you’re the one who keeps _accusing_ Peter Parker of something, and you won’t even tell me what you’re accusing him of!”

His spider-sense is _really_ going crazy now and Deadpool has straightened up, his movement slow as he makes his way over to Peter. “Because baby boy, I know _you won’t listen._ Your head is so far up Parker’s ass you aren’t willing to listen to reason! And baby girl won’t listen _either!_ What the fuck is wrong with both of you?”

“There’s _nothing_ wrong with me! There’s nothing wrong with Spider-gal, either!” he rubs at his face while Deadpool clenches his own hands into tight fists and Peter is starting to get a damn headache from how tense the situation is. “Just—just drop it, Deadpool. I am _not_ going to argue with you about this when we have a much more important thing to worry about.”

All he gets is silence from Deadpool who is still staring at him so very intently and Peter exhales shakily. “Have you been able to get anything outta the people we caught yesterday?” Peter asks slowly, his hands coming to hover out ridiculously before he lets his arms drop.

Suddenly, the humming of his spider-sense comes to a stop and it feels like an absolute _whiplash_ from going to being on edge to not and Peter closes his eyes and exhales heavily. “It’s just been a day, sweetheart.” Deadpool coos out, suddenly joyous and happy and Peter jolts when he appears next to him and drapes an arm over his shoulders. “Hawkeye Jr.’s been _tryin’_ to get them to talk, but most of them seem to be so super stubborn? Ugh, _booooring._ They’ll start talkin’ in a few days sweetums, just give it some time.”

“Don’t call me—nevermind. You aren’t interrogatin’ ‘em? I would’ve thought…” he shrugs as best he can with Deadpool’s arms on his shoulders and he looks away, staring off into the horizon, and he looks down at his feet and shuffles a bit.

“Eh.” Deadpool makes a dismissive motion with his hand and he rests his head on Peter’s, and he wonders – briefly – if it’s far too mean to kick the guy off. “SHIELD’s taken ‘em in, and I’m still an honorary Avenger, so I don’t got access to SHIELD’s super secret special interrogation place!”

Peter furrows his brow at that; they have separate interrogation rooms? “Wait, doesn’t the tower already have an interrogation room?”

“Yup!”

“… but, um… don’t you have access to that one?”

“Aaaabsolutely! I’ve more than helped ‘em with interrogatin’—“ his spider-sense starts to go insane and Peter’s hand shoots out and he grabs at Deadpool’s wrist tightly, eyes painfully wide and staring into the katana that seems to stare back at him. “—whoops, sorry baby boy! But I’ve more than helped ‘em with interrogating!”

He doesn’t let go of Deadpool’s wrist still, his heart hammering in his chest and his spider-sense is humming lowly. He shoves Deadpool away after a second and Peter is about to say something when Deadpool interrupts him. “Buuuut, I think SHIELD’s freaking out ‘bout this because if they can get access to Stark’s old tech, what’s stoppin’ ‘em from getting into all’a Stark’s info on the Avengers shit, huh?”

 “Are you—are you just going to ignore the fact that you tried to attack me!?” Peter says, his voice high-pitched, and Deadpool just shrugs. “Are – oh my gosh…” he really wants to punch Deadpool’s face in, but he grits his teeth again and decides to just ignore it. “Do you—do you think that it’s someone trying to disband the Avengers or something…?”

“Probably someone who just wants to take advantage of all the secret identities! Then, they’ll be able to hit it where it hurts.” Deadpool says as he drags his thumb over his neck in a slicing motion and the grin he has on his face is far too wide to be welcoming. “Buuut… I doubt it! After all, why steal the suits first and not the IDs and all?” Deadpool chirps as he takes a step back, his katana sheathed and his fingers spread.

There’s something energetic in his steps, almost as though he’s joking around with Peter, and he doesn’t remember the last time Deadpool has acted this oddly with him. “What’s up with you?” Peter asks, finally, with his nerves on edge and his eyes narrowing. “You’re really morbid—no, just… not morbid, weird. You’re weird today.”

Deadpool shrugs and bends his arms in an exaggerated v underneath his chin. Though Peter can’t see it, he can practically imagine the way Deadpool is batting his eyelashes at him. “No clue, baby boy! Maybe it could be just another one of my episodes?” Deadpool says, voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness and Peter really has no clue what is going on. “Maybe I’m just _really crazy_ and my control ain’t so good today?

Or maybe, _maybe_ I’m mad that a certain arachnid is being a little _shitty asshole_ about Parker! Maybe it’s because my sweet baby boy is **_being a massive fucking dick again!_** ” Deadpool barks out, his voice getting deeper and _far too serious_ far too quickly for Peter’s tastes. “If I didn’t know any better I’d even say you were…” he lets the words trail off, heavy and dangerous, though he follows the maybe-threat up with a dreamy sigh and places his hands on his cheeks. “But I do know better, so I’ll never be too mad at you baby boy, you just have a magical spell over me!”

They’re going back to this again?! Why won’t—“Drop it!” Peter snaps. “Just _drop it!_ Fine, whatever beef you have with Parker? I’ll just _deal with it._ I don’t even know what the hell is bothering you!”

“Parker’s a bad guy, sweetheart! _You_ can’t see it, and apparently neither can Spider-gal because she’s working with the guy— _for_ the guy—that helped our Green Gobbo nearly win!”

What?!

“That’s—that makes no sense! You know—you _know_ Doc Ock took over _me._ That’s all me and Doc’s fault! What the hell does Peter have to do with this?! Leave him out of this!”

Apparently, it’s Deadpool’s turn to look at him with surprise. His entire face goes slack, jaw dropping and his mask’s eyes amazingly wide. He just stares at Peter like he has grown another head and he squares his shoulders up at Deadpool, as though wanting to let the other know that there is nothing _wrong_ with him.

“Oh baby boy, I thought you were _smart._ ” Deadpool says, his voice aghast and his expression twisting into horrified concern. “Do you seriously not see Peter Parker for who he is—? You _really_ must love that guy, huh?”

“What are you going on about?”

Deadpool shakes his head. “Either you’re dumb as a sack of hair—which I doubt you are! Seriously, don’t punch my dick please—or you just _really_ like Parker and you have no clue.” Before Peter can actually react properly, Deadpool is grabbing his face and squishing his cheeks real hard. “I am _so sorry_ for my anger, sweetcheeks! Don’t you worry your probably pretty head, I’m gonna take care of this on my own!”

He lets go of Peter and begins to run off and it takes some time for Deadpool’s words to catch up to him. When realisation hits at last, Peter jerks up straight and he stumbles over to where Deadpool has jumped off of the roof and grabs at the very edge. “HEY!” he yells, but…

But Deadpool is never to be seen and Peter’s heart is hammering in his chest, hard and desperate. “HEY!” he yells out again, hoping against hope that Deadpool can still hear him. “Whatever you’re doing—don’t do it! Deadpool! _Deadpool! Where are you?! **DEADPOOl!**_ ”

No one answers him and Peter backs away from the edge until his back hits the wall of the entryway to the roof. He slides down and presses his palm against his forehead, his thoughts racing and worry gnawing at his chest.

What is Deadpool talking about? What is – what is he even going to take care of!? Oh no. Oh _shit oh no._ Oh no no no no—is he going to do something to him as Peter? Shit—

Deadpool is—Deadpool is _deadly._ Dangerous. What if he plans on attacking Parker industries for whatever misplaced sense of justice he has? He can’t put money in securities too suddenly, that’d be really suspicious. If he tries to even make a statement against Deadpool about this, Peter is sure he’ll get in some sort of trouble with the Avengers.

They may have mixed feelings about Deadpool, but they get up in arms when they feel like someone is being falsely accused of something and if Peter even tries to insinuate that he may be trying to kill him, he’s going to be facing _a ton_ of problems.

 

 _No, no, no, why?_ Why can’t this all be easy? This is all—this is all…

Everything seems to suddenly slow down when he recalls Deadpool blaming him for… for the Green Goblin’s near successful invasion.

What is Deadpool talking about? Peter really does have nothing to do with the invasion—everything that has happened? It’s all Otto’s fault, as well as Peter’s for not being able to come back soon enough to stop this all from happening.

But… but there is still a time in which Peter can only remember snippets—small snapshots here and there. He remembers Otto – he remembers—

The urge to vomit hits him like a brick to the face and Peter inhales and exhales shakily as the discomfort he swears—he _swears—_ he has gotten rid of comes up all over again. He wants to scratch at his skin—

He needs to take the hottest shower of his life. He _needs_ to. He feels absolutely dirty and— _crap!_ He has forgotten to do his patrol— _dang it._ Despite the discomfort settling like a terrible ache in his chest, Peter forces himself to stand and begin his patrol, his thoughts racing quickly in his head and he decides to focus on the work he has to do.

It’s better than revisiting old discomforts. It has almost been a year, anyway; Peter needs to get over it. He needs to.

* * *

“Did you get anything out of them?” Kate asks, first thing, when she walks into the room and Wade glances over at her from where he’s holding the collar of one of their prisoners. Clint groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, and Kate raises an eyebrow at him.

“Deadpool and I’ve gotten _nothing_ outta this gal.” Clint says as he moves around to the table in the room and he takes a quick gulp of his lemon tea—still hot, still scalding his tongue! Just how he likes it. “Only thing I can say is that these guys are crazy loyal…”

Wade smacks the woman he’s holding before he drops her down onto the chair and he fingerguns over at the one-way glass panel where he _knows_ SHIELD agents are hiding. “I got good news for y’all though!” Wade says as he turns on his heel and places his hands on his hips. “They definitely do not give a shit about our identities—do ya, sweetheart?” as he says that, he turns to face the woman again and he bends over, his hands resting on his knees.

“No!” The woman says and then spits at Wade, her face contorting into plain anger. “The Avengers are god damn _government fucks,_ but they’re not SHIELD so we don’t give—a— ** _fuck!”_**

He gives her another hard smack and the woman chokes and glares at him, her shark-teeth bare as she growls and bites at him. He lets her bite his fingers off and she spits them out almost immediately, a glare still on her face before it’s quickly replaced with horror as disgusting squelching and cracking noises start to emerge from the bite wounds. “What is—oh fuck, I don’t—I don’t need to see that!” she grimaces and loos away, her eyes clenched tight, and Deadpool laughs.

Katie hits the back of his head, then, and interrupts his laughter and Clint just sighs and takes another sip of his tea. He loves it when hot drinks get rid of all the stress he has in the world; there’s just something so… _relaxing_ about hot beverages. “Hey, no! Deadpool, _calm down!_ Stop scaring the lady.” Katie hisses out before she gives the woman an apologetic look. “Shit, how long have you been beating her up?”

“An hour at most.” Clint answers, his voice sober and neutral. “Most the damage to her? Really brutal SHIELD interrogators. If Tasha was here, m’pretty sure she’da gotten an answer by now. For now? Only thing we can tell you is that whoever these— _AGMG_ guys are? Don’t give a shit about us. At all. They care more ‘bout Nick Fury’s posse.”

Kate crosses her arms and scowls before she focuses his attention on Clint when Wade starts to break his fingers one by one in front of the poor, disgusted prisoner. “You think any of them are gonna crack soon and tell us anything? Because I am _not_ digging the interrogation scene.”

“Two of them are pretty close to it if you ask me.” Clint says and nods, bringing his cup of tea up to his mouth again and he really, really needs more tea right now. His cup is running empty.

“The guy called uuhhhh… the ginger guy! Shit tonna freckles, green eyes? That one! He’s actually pretty close to spillin’ the beans on whatever he knows!”  Wade says finally as he bounces away from the prisoner and turns to face the Hawkeyes, and Kate and Clint share a look before they look back at him. “I was busy with ‘im earlier and _nooot_ in the funny way, though he totally looks like he has a-“

“ _Deadpool.”_ Kate interrupts. “Stay on topic. _Please.”_

He rolls his eyes and slumps his shoulders. “Uuggghhh, fine! You nasty prude, you! Aaaahaaanyway… that little nerdshit’s probably gonna tell us some stuff soon… buuut he’s currently unconscious as hell and probably won’t come to until, like, maybe tomorrow?”

“The hell did you do to the guy, Deadpool?” Clint asks as he nearly slams his cup down. “That guy better not have any serious injuries or I—“ Kate holds Clint back, then, her grip strong on his shoulders as she forces him back.

She shoots him a warning look. “ _Clint._ He’s right, though, Deadpool.” She looks over at Wade, her gaze serious and intense, and he wiggles his fingers flirtatiously at her. Expectantly, she ignores it. “Is the guy _seriously_ injured? Like, is he actually going to be capable of being returned to society, or no?”

“Relaaax, relax. You’re both super uptight, y’know that? Chillax!” They just glare at him and Wade shrugs. “Eh, I tried. Points for trying, right? Right? No? Well, whatever. The guy’s fine! He’s just the type to pass out for hours when they get super scared… and I guess seeing me regenerate my guts right in front o’ him scared the shit outta him!”

There’s a heavy silence that hangs over them all as Clint and Kate just stare at him like he’s crazy. Which… he is, to be fair. Kate’s gaping while Clint smacks his hand onto his eyes, a ridiculous frown on his face because _of course_ Wade decides to gut himself and then let himself regenerate in front of their prisoner.

“Oh my god.” The woman, their prisoner, finally sobs out. “You’re fucking crazy! This is—this is what the Avengers is like? When I get out of here— _when I get out,_ I’m going to make sure your lives are living hells!” her threats don’t really work when she sounds like she’s panicking, so Deadpool walks behind her and places his hands on the back of her chair.

He bends over her again, his large stature making it easy to intimidate the hell out of this woman who is looking up at him with the wide eyes of someone who _isn’t_ used to dealing with people like Wade.

Then again, no one really is. “Sweetheart,” Wade purrs out, “you’ll be locked up so tight in SHIELD’s jails—“

Abruptly, she goes as white as a sheet at that and doesn’t even give Wade a chance to finish his threat. She starts to struggle desperately in the chair, her eyes darting around and Wade has to hold the chair down to keep it from toppling over. “NO! No! Don’t take me—don’t take me back there! Don’t! I’ll tell you where one of our bases is! Please—please just don’t send me back there!”

All three Avengers in the room share a look with one another and Kate stays back while Clint takes a few steps forward. He falls into a squat in front of the terrified woman, his arms hanging from his knees. “Back _where?_ What are you talking about?”

“There!” she shrieks out. “I don’t want—they’ll experiment on me again, I know it! I _know_ it!” Every part of Wade freezes up and he stares at the woman with big eyes. “Don’t! Send me to a normal prison, please! I only—I only have the teeth! I can’t even use them properly—all I eat is meat, I swear! I swear I won’t attack anyone in prison! Please just don’t send me back there!”

“Hey, hey, we’ll uh…” he glances over at Kate who steps forward and stops next to Clint.

She places a hand on Clint’s shoulder, a disarming smile on her face. “Listen, we won’t send you back there. _No one_ is going to experiment on you.” She says firmly. “All you have to do is promise to tell us where your one of your bases are—do you know any others?”

The prisoner stares up at her then looks back down at Clint, her mouth hanging open and her eyes glossy. “I… I don’t. I’m—I joined recently—Don’t send me back! I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you, I promise! Just don’t send me—don’t send me anywhere!”

“Listen.” Kate says as she looks at Clint then Wade. “We’re gonna have to wait for the A-team to get back before we can actually negotiate anything with her. For now, we’ll wait for the other prisoners to start spilling before we can make an agreement with her.”

Clint nods and Wade moves away from the shaken prisoner and all three of them make their way out. The SHIELD agents pointedly ignore them as they make their calls to… whoever about what they have learnt today and Wade has the biggest scowl on his face.

They move away from the SHIELD agents and Kate carefully closes the door behind them before she looks around. Her eyes narrow and she snaps her fingers before taking lead and Wade and Clint follow her around until Kate smiles as they stand in an awkward corner. “Okay, there should be no cameras aimed our way.”

Clint blinks and gives her a stare. “What? I asked Natasha where all the blind spots are and she just… told me.” Kate shrugs. “That’s not important. What is important is her reaction to SHIELD’s prisons…”

“She’s a victim.” Wade says darkly. “Pre-mutant rights shit. All six of ‘em—they’re _mutants,_ right? Got the X-gene and stuff?” When Clint nods, Wade’s eyes narrow. “You think they’re—“

“Probably.” Kate interrupts. “They’re all old enough to’ve been around that time and Clint checked the records; they were discovered as mutants pretty early on, but I don’t know if they’ve _all_ been experimented on."

At the very idea, Clint can’t help but rub his face in frustration and Kate wrings her fingers together. “I hate to say it…” Kate begins, “but we need to hold that over her head. We need the info.”

“Maybe we should wait for the others to get back.” Clint pipes up. “We _could_ negotiate with Fury about this—“

“No! We are not talking to shiny, bald dick head without my main squeeze Widow around! SHIELD’s always up to somethin’, and Babe Widow’ll be able to help keep Nick in line. So no, no makin’ plans until she’s back.”

Kate snaps her fingers again and Clint looks at her with a nod and she looks back at Wade. “Deal. We wait for Natasha to return, then we make negotiations.”

“What ‘bout before they’re back, though? Nick prob’ly knows about this all already.” Clint adds.

“Well, he probably already knows that we won’t make any negotiations without the Avengers around. I’m pretty sure he heard us. And if he tried to make negotiations without us, Tony’ll cause a huge fuss again and we know how that went down.”

Wade beams at Kate then and Clint shakes his head. “I knew tin can had a use after all!” Wade sings. “So, court is adjourned errybody! Let’s get outta this corner, I got some work to do!”

“Finally!” Clint groans. “Your smell was starting to get to me. Everything was started to go _blurry_ and I could _feel_ the animal in me wanting to… shoot you in the head… it’s… happening again!”

“You just can’t handle my _wonderful_ musk!” Wade says as he wraps his arms around himself and wiggles as seductively as he can, and Kate snickers while Clint laughs as they both back away. “But seriously, move aside peasants! I got some bitchin’ badassin’ shit to do!”

Clint and Kate merely roll their eyes and walk away, giving him a quick wave with their backs turned to him. “Don’t do anything stupid!” Kate calls out and Clint scoffs.

“I promise you I won’t, babe!” Wade says as he departs from his two faves, a smile on his face despite the heavy thoughts brewing in his head.

The voices aren’t helping either, but even they have to admit… having to hold SHIELD’s jails over a possible experimentation victim is fucking scummy, even for them. The faster the A-team gets back, the better.

 

**[Don’t ya feel bad for lying to baby boy, too?]**

**_{He never feels guilty about anything! Ever! Besides, this is official business! Ya can’t make exceptions even for a butt like that.}_ **

**[You still _lied._ Never feels nice to lie to him.]**

**_{He’s so innocent! He doesn’t even know what’s going on with Parker! Poor kid.}_ **

**[We’ll protect him.]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes, I forget that Deadpool can be a pretty scary guy.


	9. Intermission: There are a lot of things you don't expect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teeny tiny intro to something. Also, Pete's initial reaction to being Spidey-- only vaguely. I'm sorry for updating so quickly/so much, I just really wanna write as much as I can before I probably get busy, just in case!

He first hears about the Mutant Rights Act on TV. He’s doing his homework, brows pinching as he reads over the questions and tries to answer them as best he can with how _tired_ he is – he can’t focus either, which doesn’t help much. Uncle Ben is sitting on the couch with him, watching the telly with little to no interest as things go on and aunt May joins them eventually to knit something new.

Then, all of a sudden, the air in the living room seems to become tense as the news takes over the channel. Peter barely glances over, not really paying attention, and his eyes glaze over when he notices that it’s just the news and he goes back to focusing onto his homework while the news anchor prattles on and on about something that he doesn’t care about.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Aunt May says with a sigh, and the atmosphere relaxes considerably following that. He stops for a moment with his homework and shifts around and looks at both his parents – or well, as much of a parent as they can be to him. “I’m so glad that this is all _settled_ now.”

Ben grunts at that and sits up a bit more properly, his hands curling on his knees and his posture tense. “They didn’t have to _rebel_ about it—“

“Ben!” May speaks up and Peter stiffens up in surprise at the upset in her voice. “These mutants have been trying _their hardest_ to be acknowledged—“

“Using _violence_ for it just _doesn’t seem right, May!_ I understand that they deserve to have their rights but—“

She slams her needles and knitting tools onto the coffee table in front of them and Peter jolts in surprise. “We fight for our country constantly so that everyone can be free, but then there are _these_ people who are _being experimented on, Ben! They were being experimented on!_ Are you telling me that their response is unreasonable?!”

Ben turns to face her, his hands still clenching and unclenching atop his knees, and Peter swallows the lump in his throat as he tries to inch away from his aunt and uncle. “I’m not saying that! I just don’t see the point in fighting— there could have been a far more _peaceful_ way to go about this!”

“They were being turned into weapons against their will! _You may not see the point at all, but I **do!**_ They had to fight for this, just like how _we_ fought for our independence!”

“That’s different! We were fighting for our entire nation, our freedom—“

“And these people aren’t part of our nation!?”

His anxiety builds and he eventually manages to slip away, their yelling voices being drowned out by the blood rushing in his head and the frantic beating of his heart as he makes his way upstairs to his room. He looks down at his hands and blinks when he realises that he has – subconsciously – brought his homework up with him to finish.

It’ll help him to drown everything out right now. Whatever it is that has happened this year, Peter thinks he is just going to _ignore it_ because he has better things to worry about. Besides, the news is almost always boring and it never, _ever_ really applies to him…

He closes his eyes and exhales, falls into his chair and slumps his shoulders.

When he is _finally_ calm enough to be able to handle actually doing homework, Peter sighs, slumps his shoulders, and goes back to doing more maths.

 

 

 

While Peter is thirteen years old, he doesn’t really pay attention to the Mutant Rights Act when it comes out initially. It is only three years down the line when Peter is bitten by the spider that makes him into a mutate.

Of course, he panics. For a good, _good_ while, he freaks out over what will happen to him if he is found out as a mutant or a mutate— _what if they put him in jail? What if they see him as a freak? What if he gets in trouble with everyone? What if they kill him? What if—?_

For so long, he has grown up with the notion that _all mutants and mutates are going to be taken into prison without any reason._ All mutants and mutates are in danger unless they go to the x-men academy, and Peter freaks out about it for days without doing anything with his newfound powers.

 

Then he suddenly remembers it. The Mutant Rights Act. He is in the middle of class when he remembers it; or rather, it’s not that he _remembers_ it, but it is something that his teacher decides to discuss in the middle of their social science class. The Mutant Rights Act comes up, several times, and Peter ignores everyone and decides not to participate in the discussion because…

Because he is worried he may give himself away. He stays quiet, lets everyone else debate, and thanks his lucky stars that his teacher decides not to pick on him today to talk because Peter absolutely doubts that he can talk about this properly.

So when he gets home, he looks up as much as he can about the history prior to the Mutant Rights Act and cringes at some of the things that have been happening to the mutants and mutates. Mandatory imprisonment for anyone who is either… police having the right to arrest anyone they have a _guess_ is a mutant or mutate…

Basically, _a lot_ of things that violate basic human rights yet is _absolutely acceptable_ because mutants and mutates are “dangerous” and need to be taken into custody so they can’t hurt anybody. But then, Peter looks down at his hands, what about those who just have horns or tails? What about people who can make toasters magically create toast with no bread?

What about the mutants with the most innocuous of mutant abilities? Peter’s mouth curls downwards into a scowl and he continues reading whatever else he can gather about the Mutant Rights Act.

When he finally gets to the time that the mutants begin to rebel, Peter can’t help but feel… odd and surprised. Most of the big name mutants who rebelled are all people who once attended the X-men Academy; when Professor Xavier didn’t do anything about the oppression other than try and gather them all in a safe place, the ones who _really_ made a difference left the academy officially and began protesting.

Throughout the years leading up to the Mutant Rights Act, a lot of protests happened until they escalated to rebellion, and any mutant that can fight ended up fighting against the police and anyone else that have tried and failed to stop them.

Peter has never felt more grateful for their hard work than he has now. He exhales and rubs at his face, flinching when his fingers stick to his face a bit too hard and Peter brings his hands back up to inspect them and narrows his eyes.

Can he… can he perhaps recreate the microhairs on his fingers? He shakes his head, trying not to let his mind race to creating tech for himself _just yet_ and he, instead, looks up all the people that protested to see where they have ended up.

He learns of Genosha Island and how many of the mutants of the U.S ended up moving there, and how even with the Mutant Rights Act many older mutants don’t want to live in the U.S anymore. Honestly, Peter doesn’t blame them and he files away the fact that Genosha exists so that just in case anything happens, he will have a place he can fall to where he knows he will be accepted worldwide.

For now? Peter just needs to figure out how to use his new powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a hilarious amount of notes for something I probably won't explore in detail yet. I'm also very tired; it's 10 in the morning right now and I got up at like 7 after falling asleep at 3.


	10. Hey, hey, hey! Not my peanuts!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick filler chapter before I gotta start uni tomorrow and all. My schedule is thankfully not as bad as I thought it was [I really badly misremembered], but still! Uni's pretty far away and I gotta get up real early.
> 
> I also took a sleeping pill and wrote this while having taken it, so I am very, very tired. I am very sorry for any mistakes present here. Or if the chapter seems weird.

It is _very_ late at night when Spider-gal slams down next to him, landing the superhero landing in a way that clearly indicates to Wade that she is _very, very angry._ “Baby girl!” Wade barely manages to get out before he gets a _really_ hard punch to the face that sends him flying and roughly tumbling across the floor. “Owwww…”

**_{I think Gallypoo’s mad!}_ **

**[What gave it away? The punch, or the landing? My bet is on both.]**

**_[Shut up!]_ **

“So…” Wade manages out as Spider-gal stalks up to him, the aura around her practically _murderous_ and he gulps audibly. “I—uh… I take it I made you _really mad?_ ” he laughs nervously as Spider-gal grabs him by his suit and lifts him up, holding him above her despite their clear height differences. At this _very moment,_ he can’t help but feel very tiny.

He flinches as he stares into the unmoving, unchanging eyes of Spider-gal’s mask, wide and white, and Wade swallows the thick lump in his throat. “You nearly _sliced_ my boyfriend’s head off.” Spider-gal says, the whites of her suit practically glowing in the night… or, well, at least it does in Wade’s eyes.

Wade may or may not be vaguely hallucinating that she’s glowing like an angel.

**_{Spider-gal IS an angel… our angel of the morning!}_ **

**[Now if only you didn’t piss her off by nearly killing Spider-man.]**

**_{But we knew he’d doooodge it!}_ **

**[And what if he didn’t?]**

**_{It’s Spider-man! We’d never seriously kill him!}_ **

“What? Noooo, I _totally_ didn’t nearly slice it off- I just… was gonna press it against his neck! For theatrics sake, you know? Just to add tension to the whole thing!” When Wade doesn’t get any answer from Spider-gal he can only assume that he has really fucked up—

One swift and hard kick to the mother-loving baby makers lets him know that yes, _indeed,_ he has well and truly fucked up. He lets out a high-pitched squeal and grabs at his crotch and crumbles over when Spider-gal steps back, her glare palpable through her mask. “You could have _killed_ him.” Spider-gal says, her voice grave and cold, and Wade looks up at her with wide eyes.

“I’d never— _I’d never_ do that intentionally! I swear!” he squeaks out, his voice high-pitched despite the fact that the pain is starting to fade away. _Still,_ Spider-gal has a crazy good kick and his nuts are pretty much still trying to recover from that. “I would _never_ kill Spider-man, never ever!”

Spider-gal sighs. “I believe you. _For now._ But if you _ever_ do anything like that ever again, if you ever hurt him or _god fucking help you,_ **kill** him, I’m going to give you a whole new meaning to hell.” With another unseen yet palpable glare, Spider-gal starts running and jumps away, a small _thwip_ barely audible over everything else.

Wade can’t help but watch her with wide-eyed wonder as she swings away, her shimmering form fading away into the darkness and he gives a big, goofy smile and he stands up eventually, hands falling from his no-longer hurting crotch.

**[We should probably take her threat into consideration.]**

**_{Aw boo, like we’d ever kill Spidey! Not before I get to motorboat his tits!}_ **

**[You are despicable and I hate you.]**

 

 

Wade doesn’t actually _see_ the spiders for a week after that. He _knows_ they’re still out and about and fighting crime – literally everyone is reporting on it all the time, and Wade happily saves any photos taken of the spiders – but he actually _does not_ have the time to meet up with those two.

Between Janet and Natasha being off on a mission together and the rest of the A-team elsewhere, Wade has been given _a lot_ of missions to keep him busy. He doesn’t really _mind_ because the better he does and the quicker he gets his work done then the more likely it is that they’ll consider him to be an actual Avenger.

The AGMG attackers are still in containment, and they are still quaking and shivering over the idea of going back to the _old_ mutant containment cells. A part of him wants to think that they are completely gone by now, but White is _absolutely insistent_ that they are still there.

He seriously, _seriously_ hopes they aren’t, or he may have to break his vow to not kill people and go _slaughter crazy_ with SHIELD. **[Maybe you shouldn’t do that. Don’t kill people, actually think of good ways to get them exposed. We are not murderers anymore.]**

**_{No one would ever believe us, though!}_ **

**[Not us, but they will believe everyone else.]**

“What are we dealing with?” Natasha says, breaking Wade out of his thoughts, and he blinks frantically and stares at her blankly. “And why am _I_ needed?”

“ _Well,_ my bodacious angry babe in the _tightest damn black leather I’ve ever seen—_ I swear, I can almost see your cameltoe—“

“ _Deadpool.”_

He throws his hands up and shrugs. “Keep your thongs on, babe. I’m getting to it. I need _you_ to talk to Nick Fury and make sure he _does not_ send our prisoners someplace that’ll freak ‘em ooooout…” he sings out and Natasha raises her eyebrow. “What?”

“Why should we care about our prisoners freaking out? It happens often—“

“Ex-MRA prisoners.” Wade says, all humour gone from his voice and something dark hangs over both their heads and Natasha merely stares into him. “Sweetheart.” Wade says, his voice snide and hateful. “You are going to make sure _Nickie boy here_ does not do anything to freak them out.” He pats down the sides of his legs, feeling for the knives he has hidden away, and Natasha narrows her eyes at him.

She crouches slightly, her hands hovering near her own hidden weapons, and she glares at him. “And you think you can guilt me into helping out?”

Wade shrugs. “I don’t know what I expected from a Russian.”

 

Silence hangs over them a bit.

 

 

“That was a low blow.” Natasha says, though she does straighten up and relax considerably. “I am nothing like my country.” She adds, and Wade shrugs again. “You didn’t have to go that far; I wasn’t going to let mutants suffer from PTSD anyway.”

He just hums at her and steps to the side as Natasha forces her way past him, not even caring to glance back at Wade as she heads off to talk _politics_ with Nick Fury and the bastards in containment.

Seriously, one of them bit his fingers off. Nasty things.

* * *

“I told you Skunkman would escape eventually!” Gwen yells out as she aggressively strips her suit off and Peter laughs as he strips his own off as well. “Jesus fu—freaking _tapdancing hell_ I can feel the vomit rising, oh god—“

He can’t help but laugh harder as Gwen practically throws the suit away, his laughter somehow pushing away the disgust… though, he can still feel the telltale urge to vomit as well, and Gwen gags and dry heaves, her eyes watering. “I had—I had the team make something to get rid of the smell. Promise! I promise I did!”

“You better have, asshole! We need to go back to patrolling and oh god, the nausea’s back. The nausea is hella back. I’m burning these!”

“I thought that was the intention all along?” Peter teases, though he immediately goes green in the face and starts gagging. He strips off completely and Gwen webs their suits up and aggressively throws it into the furnace before she kicks him out—

There is something so absolutely ridiculous about being kicked by his naked girlfriend that Peter can’t help the damn near wheezing cackles that leaves him. He grabs the _very specific body wash_ and the also _very specific shampoo_ that they need so that they can deal with the skunk smell dousing them. There is a big, toothy grin on his face, fangs showing and all, at the sight of his exasperated girlfriend burning their suits.

“I had such a long time with that suit.” Gwen mourns and Peter snorts. “I’m gonna miss that old gal so much.”

“Me too,” Pete says with a sigh, “me and my suit… we were besties. The absolute closest—even closer than the symbiote ever was.” He fake faints, his hand with the shampoo at his forehead as he sways backwards before righting himself. “C’mon, let’s take a bath. And keep your hands to yourself, Gwen! We got work to do!”

 

It’s a quick wash—they’ve gotten so used to it that it’s almost sad—and they are back out in their backup suits while the old ones burn to get rid of the smell, and Peter is singing under his breath while Gwen sings loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I think Scorpio’s gonna attack in a few days.” Peter says after a bit of swinging… and not fighting. Even when they run into burglars and would be bank robbers, Gwen just sings louder and that seems to be enough to send everyone running.

He blames it on the fact that Gwen lost her temper during the fight with Skunkman today, and that _no one_ wants to be on the receiving end of her temper. Sometimes, Peter wonders if people are more scared of Gwen than they are of him and he vehemently reminds himself that they don’t exist to bring fear into everyone’s hearts.

Still, it is kind of funny to see how everyone scatters as Gwen bellows out the lyrics to hollaback girl as horribly as she can manage, even if Peter’s ears are suffering for it. “Can you at least sing better songs?” Peter asks at some point and Gwen shakes her head at him, going back to singing the earworm ‘Friday’ as best she can.

Swinging and singing—that almost sounds like a book. Peter thinks that he should _definitely_ try to write that—maybe it can be about singing spiders that have to solve murders because they are being framed for it? Somehow, Peter can imagine it being a fun process even if he isn’t good at it.

Practice makes perfect, and all that!

 _Anyway,_ back to the topic at hand…

Gwen merely shrugs at the declaration and she makes a sudden turn and Peter has to fall momentary to avoid hitting something before he webs up after her. “We should learn how to do a circus act.” Gwen says, her voice light and happy. “Like, while we’re swinging we can start an act, and give the people a show before we do our work?”

“That absolutely sounds like my dream come true, but nah. We don’t got the time for that, tiger.” He replies and he merely watches as Gwen falls, performs a cool little flip mid-fall and webs forward and swings in a half circle back up to him. “Show off.” He says fondly and Gwen laughs.

He feels a mild vibrating against his side. He lets out a very soft “hm?” and swings over to the side of a building and crawls up so that he can grab his spidey-phone [don’t tell Gwen that he calls it that now; it’s way easier to say]. Peter arches an unseen eyebrow at the two texts he has gotten from… Black Widow, of all people.

The last time he remembers talking to her, Peter has threatened to fight her if she tries to get him to join the Avengers like the others that have tried to get him to join. Gwen may be a big ‘maybe’ with the Avengers, but Peter is a solid _no._

_‘Know you don’t like us. Deadpool told me to let you know. We know where the AGMG first base is.’_

_‘Mission starts tomorrow at 1 am. Be there. Pulled strings to have you here.’_ Are all the texts say and Peter shakes his head. At least they are to the point and not beating around the bush. He puts his phone back into his utility belt and he looks up when he hears the soft thud of Gwen landing above him. She tilts her head to the side, her hood fluttering gently while Peter’s own hood falls back.

“What was that about?” Gwen asks, her mask as expression as his own and there’s something almost comforting about it. Peter has no clue _why._ “You got a text from a secret crush or something?”

He shakes his head. “No, no. Black Widow, actually.”

“What. Is she asking you ‘bout my stance on joining? Because I’m still on _maybe._ I mean, hell, my hands are full as hell with all the work I gotta do—I mean, I can totally work out a schedule for the Avengers—“ she sits up and rests on her feet, her hands wildly gesturing as she talks, and Peter rolls his eyes.

When Gwen is about to continue rambling, he crawls up a bit more, sits up, and flicks her nose through her mask. “They know where the base of those attackers are.” She tilts her head at that and Peter clears his throat. “She uh... Deadpool apparently got her to pull a few strings to have us come on over. So… we have a mission at one in the morning tomorrow.”

“One: ew, one in the morning. Two: _Deadpool?_ What the _hell_ is he doing?” Gwen grounds out, her voice terrifyingly firm and Peter winces. “He thinks that he can _threaten_ you—“

“I don’t think he meant it.” Peter interjects. “I _think_ I know him well enough to know he won’t kill me as Spidey—“

“ _As Spidey._ ” Gwen hisses and she looks side to side then back down. She gestures at him to follow her up and he willingly does so, realising very belatedly that it is _definitely not_ a good idea to have a discussion about their identities on the side of a building.

When they are on the roof and they make rounds to make sure no one is around, Gwen turns to face him and she rests her hands loosely on her hips. “As Spidey?” Gwen repeats, a question this time to get Peter to continue talking, and he droops his shoulders slightly.

“I don’t know what he’s gonna do to Peter Parker.” He admits, almost ashamed to say so, because he really, _really_ does not want Gwen to worry.

Gwen is silent and she merely stares at him, waiting for Peter to say something more. “Do you need another bodyguard?” Gwen asks. “I know we can definitely ask Carol to keep an eye on Deadpool-“

“She’s really busy lately!” he blurts out. “She has a lot on her plate right now, with the inhumans and the new Ms. Marvel and all—maybe we should just wait and see what Deadpool’ll do instead of acting out?”

“What if he tries to assassinate Peter Parker?” Gwen snaps and her entire posture is tense as she stares down at Peter and he glares up at her. “We don’t _know_ what is going on with him and you! If you aren’t going to have a bodyguard, then at least stay with me for a few days, okay?”

Peter just sighs, though he isn’t really annoyed. He reaches up and places a hand on Gwen’s cheek and the way she practically melts and relaxes makes Peter’s own heart restrict. “I’ll be okay.” He says, voice ever so soft, and Gwen places her own hand on his. “I’ll stay with you a bit, okay? Any time it seems like D.P has some sort of plan, though I don’t think he ever will, I’ll stay with you.”

She bends down and bumps her forehead against Peter’s and he cradles her head for a bit. “I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” Gwen says, softly. “But not with our costumes on.”

Peter smiles. “Let’s go back to work? Then we can head to bed early so that we have enough energy for tomorrow.”

“Sleep _early?_ Why, Spider-man, you speak of impossibilities.” She says, the humour back in her voice and Peter can’t be any happier. “Let’s go? Or do you want me to give you a piggybackride to danger, Mr. Spider?”

“Oh gosh, no. No piggybackrides into battle.”

“Not without a battle cry first!”

“No! Not even with a battle cry!”

“Spoilsport.”

He backs away from her, his chest warmed despite their brief argument earlier—Peter can’t bring himself to be mad at her, really.

Peter acts the same way when she’s in danger, sometimes. “Stealth suits for tomorrow, or just the regular ones?” he asks.

“Just regular ones; I don’t think there’s gonna be much stealth if Pool’s involved. Which, better really; I _suck_ at stealth.”

He just rolls his eyes at her.

Well, time for another day of patrolling, even though Peter can’t help but feel _glad_ that they’ll have to sleep in a bit earlier tonight because going to sleep at three in the morning really isn’t appealing—it has not been since university, and it definitely is not now that he has a company to run.

Speaking of… he still needs to arrange the flight to China at some point. Dang it, he nearly forgot all about that.

Responsibilities are the worst but, great power and all. At least he has Hobie to pretend to be Spider-man for him—that certainly makes some part of his life easier as Peter Parker.

Life is a rollercoaster, and he is glad to be on it despite all the lows it can go to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technology is fucking amazing.


	11. This isn't the unresolved sexual tension I love, baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just take this from me, I don't even have something to say really other than a good bit of arguing goes on here, as well as what feels like a whole bunch of _nothing_ to me. Just assume this is another filler chapter.

When tomorrow comes, it’s a simple day that goes by quickly. Patrol, work, patrol, be on their best behaviour… Really, it’s kind of relieving that nothing new has happened. Peter is definitely sure that Scorpio is going to attack in a few days, but for now they have the base attack to worry about. Gwen’s busy playing with her own web shooters, checking the device over and over to make sure that it won’t jam and _“Really, Peter, this is so outdated, why haven’t you updated our web shooters yet?”_

When he looks over the web shooters and winces when he realises that Gwen is absolutely right. These things are old and probably going to cause more trouble in the future; he makes a mental note to get them replaced while he texts Natasha regarding the location that they need to meet up at that. He gets a text practically a _second_ later and he sends the address to Gwen as well.

It’s easier than having to tell her and her having to write it down somewhere. “You ready to go, boo?” Gwen asks as she fiddles with her watch and her suit materialises over her, Peter doing the same. “I’m kinda excited, kinda not.”

“I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible.” Peter admits. “I just really wanna know what’s going on with the city, and whether or not this is gonna escalate really quickly.” He briefly takes his gloves off and rolls his sleeves up to check the web cylinders in his arm and replaces the empty ones while he speaks.

Gwen gives him an odd look, but she shrugs and merely gets ready and doesn’t ask any more questions. “Let’s go.” She says, and they do just that. They swing most of the distance away and stop halfway through to instead walk along; it won’t do well for either of them if they are caught swinging over by the enemy and risk giving away their ambush.

When they find the team there, Peter is a bit surprised at how scarce they are. Natasha is there, definitely, and the Hawkeyes are there as well. There are several SHIELD agents around, and Deadpool is bouncing back and forth on his feet as he whines impatiently at Natasha.

He takes a step forward and yelps when Janet flies in his face and he slips and falls backwards. “Pff!” he hears above him and he looks to his side to see Janet go back to her normal. “Hey—nice to see another friendly bug around here.”

“Arachnid.”

“I know, _I know._ Anyway, only came by to say hi. I’m already debriefed on _absolutely_ everything, so I’m gonna be off on patrol.” Just like that, she gives him a wave and shrinks in size again and flies away; he loses sight of her near immediately and takes Gwen’s hand when she offers to help him up. “Huh.”

Gwen pets his head and ruffles it, even though his hair is definitely covered, so he elbows her gently and huffs. “Well, this isn’t what I expected.” Peter admits, a bit cautiously. “But I don’t really care.” He makes his way over to where Natasha seems to be lecturing Deadpool and he doesn’t really pay attention to her lectures or his whines.

Though, Peter definitely doesn’t miss the way Deadpool looks over at Gwen and nearly freezes up at the sight of her, worry bleeding from each of his pores, and she looks at him with an absolute iciness that even he, himself, can feel.

“Are you listening to me?” Natasha asks Deadpool and when he didn’t answer she just groans and leaves him be. Even with her a small distance away, apparently waiting for Janet (maybe?) to come back, Deadpool doesn’t seem to notice her anymore. No, he merely stares at Gwen as though he is waiting for her to lose her temper, and she stares at him coolly, evenly.

He feels like he’s missing something. Best not push the tense atmosphere, though, Peter _really_ rather they not fight or argue and instead just focus on finishing this mission and then _leave._ He does _not_ want to be around Black Widow right now, and the Hawkeyes are busy signing among themselves about something.

Peter doesn’t really want to interrupt the conversation right now, especially not when Deadpool actually makes his way over to Gwen and grabs her elbow. “Baby girl! You are so _cooold,_ so cold, soooo cold. I just… look, Spiduhgal, I uhh… I’m sorry?” he shrugs and looks away. “Look, I finally, _finally_ translated the thing you gave me—“

“That was weeks ago!” Gwen calls out, a bit peeved, but Peter places his hands on her shoulders and squeezes, and she relaxes a tiny bit more. “Better late than never. _What_ did you get from it?”

“… Nothing.”

“ _Nothing?!”_

“Okay! Okay! It’s nothing to me, okay? It’s literally them being frustrated that _apparently_ they got tin can’s suits first and wanted some dumb research on mutants? Now, why they seem super interested in mutants when they’re hiring mutants that used to be prisoners is something beyond me, but see I bet they’re scumlords, so I would totally kill them- but I won’t! Anyway, they were all _ohhh they shoulda gotten the X-men instead_ or apparently, at least big boy’s—“

“Deadpool, slow the _hell_ down. What are you talking about?”

“M’talkin about a buncha frustrated scientists wanting something else. Sorry Gallyboo, but, I really got nothing.”

For a moment, Gwen tenses up and her hands tremble and she looks _really_ close and ready to punch Deadpool. She inhales slowly and exhales, slumps her shoulders, and then shakes her head. “Whatever. Let’s just go and deal with them now.”

They don’t really get to dwell in the silence long and Peter isn’t really even given a chance to feel guilty – what for? – when Deadpool looks away from Gwen with a crestfallen expression on his… mask. Kate is the one who ushers Gwen over to her, probably to ask her about the entirety of the fight, and Peter is left alone with the terrifyingly silent Deadpool.

“What happened with you two?” Peter asks and Deadpool shrugs. “Are you really doing this right now? _Seriously?_ What did you do—or, heck, what did _she_ do to have you both so god damn uptight all of a sudden?”

“I ain’t uptight.” Deadpool grumbles. “I just got nothing to say.”

“You?” Peter hisses. “ _You_ have nothing to say? You’re the one that keeps running his mouth and talking about _this_ or _that._ How do _you_ not have anything to say?” He doesn’t _mean_ to sound angry and he definitely does not mean to nearly lose his temper, but his nerves are on edge with the Avengers around and having to do _actual_ Avengers work, and Deadpool glares at him.

“What? You whine and shit on me for being loud and noisy and now when I’m shutting up you’re deciding to get all indignant at me?” Deadpool spits back and Peter’s spider-sense starts to go off—more of a dull buzz in the back of his head, but still there – and he steps back when he realises the implications.

Aunt May has raised him better than this, _come on._ “I’m not going to argue with you in front of everyone else.” Peter says, but that only seems to make Deadpool angrier as his spider-sense gets louder. “Not. _Now._ Not in front of—“

“We wouldn’t have to argue if you and Spider-gal weren’t so god damn stubborn!” Deadpool nearly yells and Peter grits his own teeth. He’s about to spit back his own argument, but Natasha glides in between them both easily and glares at them both.

At her presence, the rage in Peter’s body gets _worse_ but he reigns it in—he glares at Natasha and he can practically feel Gwen making her way over to them. “I think we missed something.” Clint admits and Peter glares at the ground. “Well, whatever argument you’re all havin’—stop it. We got a mission, here.”

“You took the words right outta my mouth.” Natasha says, her voice cool and sharp, and both Spiders remain silent as she begins to talk about their plan.

It’s simple, really. When Janet is done making sure there aren’t any guards on the surface of the underground base, Natasha is going to give her a sign so that she can disarm the cameras they know is around. Afterwards, they aren’t really going to stealth their way in as much as they are going to completely _break_ in.

Break in, ambush, get as many people as they can, and then drag them back out so that the Avengers can take them away for questioning and figure out if there are going to be more attacks. What _is_ distressing to Peter, however, is when Deadpool bends down towards Gwen and he and tells them a detail that Natasha left out.

“This place is a government base. Not an old one, either. It’s actually one that’s been around for a while.” Is what Deadpool says, voice hushed and low so that the others can’t hear him, and then he straightens up and skips after the Hawkeyes and Black Widow as they get into hiding position so that they can watch and wait for Janet to let them know when to go.

Why is that detail being kept hidden from them, and why has Deadpool told them this? It’s a _government base_ that is more than likely _taken over by terrorists._ Of all the things that the Avengers – or well, some of them – can decide is not worth knowing, _this_ is not it. _You do not, absolutely do not, hide the fact that terrorists may be attacking your country’s government when you’re all heroes._

… But then again, maybe this is SHIELD demanding them to do this. Which… _frick._ This is why Peter hates trying to keep up with politics, it’s always a mess of what ifs and what is going on, and he can never, _ever_ keep up.

He feels someone push him and looks behind him to see Gwen patting at his back and shoving him forward and Peter looks forward to catch sight of Janet growing human size again and landing gracefully in front of them. “Let’s go!” she says with a small bow and Peter really wonders why they never get to see her often.

She definitely seems one of the most energetic of the bunch. Or… at least she seems it. Everyone is a good actor when they have to be, and what is to stop Janet from being one? What she is and what she feels are two radically different things—

Why does Peter always have to overthink things? Seriously, if he can have one moment where he isn’t thinking too hard about literally _everything_ then maybe his life will be easier. Calm down Parker, with thoughts racing like this he is sure that he is bound to crash and burn until there is absolutely nothing left.

What a depressing way to think about things like this.

* * *

The base itself is depressingly minimalistic, bizarrely labyrinthine… and empty. That is the one thing that catches everyone absolutely off-guard— _the best is empty._ Gwen, Peter and Janet are the ones who scout ahead as they all crawl or fly ahead to see if they are just being obtuse about it all. Any camera that Peter finds he webs up, and he checks any unlocked room he runs across.

There is at least one room full of weapons, Peter realises. Nothing too big and heavy or anything… not that, not that Peter really _knows_ what constitutes as a heavy weapon… sure, he _knows_ that rocket launchers and grenade launchers are heavy weapons, but he doesn’t think the military has them.

He has never asked and… Deadpool probably knows way better than he does. There are no grenades either, so Peter isn’t really sure what the guns, shields and all are here for. What _is_ this base for, Peter asks himself as he crawls along.

He eventually returns back to the group, a frown hidden behind his mask as he drops down before them and Gwen follows after. Janet grows human size in front of them both, arms crossing in front of her and her eyes focusing elsewhere. “There’s no one here.” Janet says and Natasha stares at her. “There is _no one_ here.”

“This is where we’re supposed to be, right?” Kate asks, her bow in one hand as the other reaches for an arrow. “I don’t think she lied.”

“They may be in a central area.” Natasha says, her voice low. “Could be they never expected to be found…”

Peter finally pipes up. “Kinda surprising given this place seems like a big deal, right?” The look he gets from Natasha is downright _harsh_ and he stares right back at her. “What is going on here? Are you not telling us something, Black Widow? Because I am not-“

“Spider-man.” Gwen says. “Calm down. No one’s around, so let’s just go and see what we can find and what’s going on. You can get angry _afterwards._ ”

A part of Peter really wants to annoying; he does. He really wants to be. He wants to fight and bite back against Natasha, wants to lash out at Deadpool… he holds himself back from doing so, however, because there is still something going on here that is making him _incredibly_ uncomfortable and Peter needs to figure out what to do.

 

 

The base, as Peter has already stated, is labyrinthine. They split off into groups, all with their mini-little Avengers beeper so that they can contact one another, and Peter is on high-alert. His spider-sense is barely humming; something is wrong, but apparently not wrong enough to have his senses go on complete alert.

He crawls along the walls with Gwen on the opposite of her and – much to their misfortune – Deadpool is with them. To no one’s surprise, there is a very heavy silence between all three of them. He hears Deadpool sigh and glances over to see him rub the back of his neck, and Peter narrows his eyes before he looks forward again.

“You’re both just gonna give me the cold shoulder.” Deadpool says, and both spiders ignore him. “C’mooon! This is the kinda shit I’d pull, not you two!” Again, they ignore him, and it’s only when Deadpool pulls out his pistols do both the spiders react.

Peter webs the pistol on the right, and Gwen gets the one on the left. “What is _wrong with you!?”_ Gwen barks out and she throws the pistol away. “Seriously!? You nearly kill my boyfriend—you— _what the—_ ugh!”

“He wasn’t going to shoot us.” Peter says and he has to dodge when Gwen shoots a web his way. “Whoa! What did I do!?”

“Stop defending him! He nearly _chopped your god damn head off!”_

“You know, I feel like me pulling that little stunt off kinda… ruined our relationship here—“

Gwen slams her hands down hard onto the wall and both Peter and Deadpool flinch from that. “OUR relationship? We were always on _shaky_ god damn grounds with you! Then you go and pull this shit off and now my boyfriend is just sticking to that wall there, holding your fucking gun—“

“Gal-“ Peter tries to interrupt her or at least do something to keep her from exploding any further, but all that he manages to get is being ignored.

“—and now you’re trying to have us pretend like you didn’t just potentially do something really dangerous? If Spider-man didn’t have the god damn spider-sense, you _could have killed him!”_

“I don’t kill innocents anymore!” Deadpool yells out. “And you—you said you believed me when I told you I wouldn’ta killed him!”

“ ** _What if you kill him because you’re so fucking reckless!?_** ”

That shuts Deadpool up. He can see the way Deadpool’s jaw falls open and how his mouth clicks shit, teeth clacking against each other real hard, and Peter swallows and wonders what to _do._ Crap, what does someone do in a situation like this?

“You can _afford_ to die! You can afford to—to—“ she pushes herself off the wall and lands in front of Deadpool, stalking up to him while jamming her finger against his face. “You can afford to lose your life because **you** have Wolverine’s healing factor! We don’t have that! We don’t have the god damn fucking privilege you do—“

“A _privilege?_ Is **this** what you’re calling this, a privilege to not die!?” Deadpool barks out and he smacks Gwen’s hand away from his face, and this is getting _really_ dangerous now Parker, **_do something._** “It’s not a _privilege_ to live with the shit I have! I have voices in my fucking head, sweetheart! They almost never shut the fuck up-“

“I don’t mean the whole package, you _asshole!_ I can die! Spider-man can die! YOU CAN’T! My boyfriend is the most trusting and most kind person I’ve _ever_ had the pleasure of meeting and no one! _No one_ is allowed to die under his watch!”

“Are you… are you _blaming_ me for this? Sweetheart, I can’t _die!_ I will never die, I know this! I’ve tried so fucking hard to get rid of that but lookie here! The freakshow’s still standing! _Murderous little freakshow is what they call me!”_

“You and I both know that the moment you do something fucking moronic—“

“Oh, and you don’t think I’m moronic enough already? Huh? You think I don’t know how _lowly_ you both think of me?!”

“You nearly killed my boyfriend!”

“I would never kill my hero!”

It’s when Gwen is about to throw the first punch that Peter finally intervenes and shoots off towards them, both arms hooking around either her or Deadpool’s neck as he drags them down and slams them to the ground. “Shut _up!_ Bismi- Spider-gal, you can fight him _later._ Deadpool, we need to _talk._ We all _really_ need to talk. Just—just not right now.”

His head is a cacophony of noise and Peter waits, waits for them to do something, and when they just turn away he lifts his hands up and stands and they follow.

They _all_ go by feet, no crawling on the walls or anything, and it’s one of the tensest moments between the three of them that Peter has ever awkwardly been caught in the middle of. Tension between Deadpool and him is normal, but with Gwen in the mix…

Something murderous hangs in the air.

* * *

They end up pretty much getting lost and Gwen’s temper has never felt so  _hot_ underneath her skin. She keeps a huge distance away from Deadpool, something petty and angry seething in her chest and Peter is looking at her every once in a while—worried, definitely, but Gwen doesn’t  _want_ it thank you very much.

She’s tired. Extremely so. A part of her is angry over Deadpool _– once a killer, always a killer –_ but another part of her screams at her about the Punisher and how he isn’t _around_ anymore. _‘Everyone can change.’_ A voice that suspiciously sounds like Peter says in the back of her head and Gwen has to keep from clawing at her own face.

 _‘I know.’_ She thinks bitterly to the projection of Peter in her head, _‘I know.’_ She thinks again and she glares at Deadpool who is completely ignoring her, merely adding more to the hot tension that hangs over them. A part of Gwen really wants to fight something, and the other part just wants her to sit down and meditate for a bit.

Play the drums. Play her guitar. Do _something_ to cool down. _She can’t,_ though, because she’s out here in the middle of some sort of government base that Deadpool has dragged them to so that they can deal with terrorists. Or something.

Natasha is probably holding back information and Gwen doesn’t care. She gets it—she’s neither Avengers nor SHIELD, and some things just gotta be held under wraps. It still doesn’t feel all that great to be lost in some sort of government underground base that – Gwen is realising – isn’t actually all that big, really; it’s just confusing because everything looks the same.

When they eventually figure out where to go, they end up being yanked back by the Hawkeyes and Black Widow and Gwen shoves them away from her. “What the hell?” she asks and Natasha shushes her before pointing over to an open area. Nodding, she falls into a crouch alongside the other Avengers – what Gwen won’t give to shrink like Janet… though, shrinking sounds terrifying – and they quietly make it over to the railing and peek over to see—

 

Monsters?

 

… No, _wait. **Wait.**_ They’re… they’re just like the catlike creature that Gwen has run into; some of them are scaly, some of them are oozing something bright, and some of them are furry. Her eyes widen as she stares at the multitude of creatures being worked on—they’re shouting in _English_ this time, and Gwen can actually make out what they’re saying now…

_“That won’t work! That won’t reverse the effects—“_

_“It’s better than not trying…”_

_“You might kill her.”_

_“Shit, you’re right.”_

_“What’s wrong with her, anyway?”_

Everyone looks among themselves, the confusion palpable among the group. They back away slowly to avoid being caught peeking because for all the security that is lacking in the halls, the open area full of scientists and people in Iron Man suits will _definitely_ prove to be tricky.

“What’s going on there?” Janet whispers once she’s able to be seen again, in a crouch like the rest of them, and Kate shrugs. “Some of them are actual military personnel—you can tell. They’re wearing uniforms under the lab coat.”

“What does _that_ mean, then?” Deadpool asks, his voice harsh and low, and he seems awfully on edge… doesn’t that have something to do with his backstory? Gwen isn’t entirely sure right now, she’s too busy trying to figure out what the hell is up with those… creatures.

At least her anger has dissipated now, though she doesn’t know if she prefers the unanswered questions and the confusion.

Janet purses her lips. “Either means they’re traitors or something’s going on.” She says eventually and Peter hums. “Real question is… what are they doing?”

“Are they making a weapon?” Natasha asks, her voice a soft hiss. “Wasp, I noticed you flyin’ down there. Did you manage to catch sight of anything?”

At Natasha’s piercing gaze, Janet sighs and frowns. “I’m not a scientist, Nasha. I didn’t really understand anything.” She admits with hurt pride and Gwen nearly snorts—no point in having a broken pride if you don’t know something, she thinks, but she keeps her words to herself and chews on her lower lip instead.

“Well.” Peter finally speaks up. “If we’re able to at least grab some of their documents in the confusion, I’m sure my boss can figure something out-“

“Isn’t he a biochemist?” Clint interrupts. “What if this isn’t something that he can particularly explain, huh?”

“Parker Industries has hired scientists of all types to help with its research in biomedical technology and the advancement of human health.” Peter says, the words leaving him naturally and with a businesslike focus. “Even if the documents are something that Peter Parker can’t necessarily understand—” Gwen can practically hear the way Deadpool grits his teeth at the mention of Peter’s full name. If only he knew… “—the work going on here, someone else will surely have the credentials for it.

“Anyway, I doubt it’s something like, rocket science or anything. From what I understand… Parker could more than definitely understand what’s going on. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Is this really the time to be promoting your boss’s company?” Kate asks.

“I owe him favours.” Peter admits coolly and Gwen feels like that is the wrong thing to say when she takes note of how Deadpool tenses up. “But anyway, what’s the game plane here? We have a buncha tight whities and metal men down there, and I’d _really_ like a plan instead of just charging in there.”

Clint and Kate share a look. “Honestly,” Kate begins, “charging is… kinda what we had in mind. I mean, we’re trying to _ambush_ them and knock out as many of them as we can…”

“Charging in has always worked for us anyway.” Clint adds.

When Peter desperately looks at Natasha for help, she just smirks. “Oh, I don’t know Spidey,” she says slowly, “charging in and grabbing what we can seems absolutely fine by me.”

“I am _very_ good at charging and ramming it in!” Deadpool whispers excitedly. “Wait- oh, _no,_ we’re not trading sex advice are we?” he flutters his hands then and folds them under his chin, the eyes of his mask somehow growing eyelashes so that he can flutter them.

What.

How?

“But… I don’t think we really have the time to plan anything, baby boy. Whaddayathink, baby girl?” Deadpool looks over at her, and Gwen wants to slap him really hard.

“Well!” she rocks forward and backward a bit. “I kinda have to agree. They might find us soon if we dwell for too long, then we’ll be the ones in trouble. We have the element of surprise, so why not take advantage of it? We just need to capture as many of them as we’re capable, and I think the scientists are more valuable. So… rush and gun it I guess.”

“Ohhh! Can I use my guns? Can I? Pretty pleeeease with cherry on top? I have my babies with me toniiight and they really wanna come out and play!”

“No.” Natasha is the one to answer. “Not on the scientists, at least. The iron fakes are free range, as long as you _don’t kill them.”_

Deadpool’s entire aura seems to change to something frosty and he nods. “No killing.” He says, his professional voice on. “I’d never kill in front of my spiders, anyway.”

 

_‘We’re not yours.’_

“We all ready? Then let’s go. Deadpool, you first! You’re the most surprising of us all.”

 

After that, everything erupts into the noise of combat—something that Gwen finds immediate comfort in. She slides into battle like a ballerina dancing, and Peter is her partner in their dance as they web the flying bastards around. The sounds of explosive arrows and the loud bangs surrounding them all because a dull hum in the background, all the sounds overtaken by the cacophony of her spider-sense as it tries to keep her alive.

As she webs one of the flying bastards and spins in place, managing to keep the person from flying away so that Peter can slam someone that he, too, has webbed against her target, Gwen can’t help but feel serene now. Whatever anger and confusion she has is momentarily washed away.

How can she really think about anything else but the elegant way that Peter and her weave through the people trying to flee or attack them, be it by shooting or melee combat?

It gives her a chance to admire the others in combat, too. Janet hits like a _truck,_ and Gwen remembers it being something about her being shrunken yet hitting with the full force of a full grown woman. She hits like a bullet, and moves as quickly as one too. Yeah, definitely something to admire in a gal – heh – like that.

Deadpool, too, is graceful and skilled in combat. It’s very _easy_ to forget that he is a trained _mercenary,_ someone who actively works in a field that requires him to be quick on his feet and to move with the grace that one doesn’t expect from a man like him. Be it his very crass way of thinking, speaking, behaving or be it because he just looks huge, it’s still unexpected.

Fighting is all a great big dance, and the bad guys are just the rivals. Even with Natasha around, even with her sharp tongue and her distrusting gaze, she can’t help but admire her too. She’s a human, first and foremost, and she fights like one.

But at least she fights like a very dangerous one… even if she is still _normal_ by all things considering. Gwen has respect for her, still; her and the Hawkeyes, really. Humans fighting among mutants or the likes… they definitely deserve some respect for trying to keep up on their own merit, and Gwen is smiling.

Gwen is definitely smiling beneath her mask, grins even when she slams her feet down onto the back of some guy’s head and sends him flying and then falls on her hands to do a spinning kick against the non-suited guards that surround her.

“He’s grabbing our documents!” one of the scientists suddenly screams and Gwen and Peter jerk over to where Clint is trying to grab something for them, and Natasha dives in and drags him behind cover when he’s suddenly being shot at. “Stop them! _Stop them, stop them!”_

 

 

The one thing that Gwen forgets among all the chaos are all the strapped in creatures that are sobbing and wailing, and she skids to a halt in front of sad looking fella and she can’t help but stare. The one that stares at her is one that is oozing with liquid and barely able to hold a stable, physical shape, and yet Gwen can make out its eyes from the mess it calls a head.

Wide and glistening, Gwen realises… it’s scared.

And she wonders why.

Of course, Gwen doesn’t get the chance to really dwell on it much when she has to dodge a blast from an Iron Fake suit and she’s back in the heat of the action, the worry tucking itself away in the back of her head so that she can stress over it when this is all said and done.

“Backups on the way!” Natasha yells suddenly, her voice sounding brutal and strong. “Sam and SHIELD are coming! Grab whatever you can and keep them from running away! Spider-man, gal! Web them up! Capture them! Do whatever you can!

“Don’t let them get away!”

Easier said than done, but Gwen is never one to back away from a challenge. Besides! She likes showing off with Peter, even though he teases her for it. They switch over to the webs that require them to manually dissolve them and they jump and leap around, webbing up as much of the area as they can so that retreating will be difficult but at least their backup can definitely join.

 

They’re still fighting for god knows how long when SHIELD agents finally storm in and Sam sweeps in, and everything is much easier to handle with them around. She doesn’t get to see the Falcon in action much, now that their numbers far outnumber the terrorists, but still.

Better than nothing.

“Right, ‘Tasha, we got ‘em all rounded up. You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Sam asks when all the fight has died down, and Gwen decides to leave them alone to instead go and find Peter. When she does find him, he sees him groaning and trying to stretch, his body making weird noises and Gwen snickers.

“Glad to see _someone_ is enjoying herself.” Peter says, mirth clear in his voice, and Gwen fingerguns his way. “Did you grab any of the documents?”

She waves the crumbled papers in her hands and Peter purses his lips. “Who else has them?”

“Clint got most of them; I think Kate told him to go grab them while she distracted them. I mean, that’s what I’m assuming, anyway.”

“Assumptions make a jerk out of you and me.” Peter says, and Gwen leans in real close and rolls her eyes even when he can’t see her. “You’re an overgrown child.” She can practically hear the smile in her voice and Gwen grins as well.

She drapes an arm around Peter’s shoulder and presses him close, her head resting on his. “And you love me for it.” She says, matter of fact, and Peter nuzzles into her as best he can.

“I do.” He murmurs, voice soft and adoring, and Gwen flushes, grateful that no one can see it. “I’m gonna grab the documents from Clint before Natasha can say anything, then we’re going to leave before you talk to Deadpool again and you both get angry at each other.”

“Mhm.” Gwen hums in agreement and lets him go. She rolls her sleeves up and presses on her web shooter and the webs around them all immediately dissolve, and she ignores the surprised sounds around her. When the webs she didn’t make also dissolve, Gwen rolls her sleeves back down and waits for Peter to grab what they need so that they can _go._

She looks over to all the new prisoners and stares at the creatures being wheeled away by SHIELD agents, and again… she can’t help but wonder.

Why are they scared?

Hopefully, when they get back to her flat, they’ll be able to learn something about their predicament… even if they might suffer an earful from Nick Fury for taking valuable documents to the Avengers and SHIELD at some point.

Better than not knowing and waiting.

When did Gwen become so untrusting of SHIELD, an organisation she once trusted years ago? Then again, everyone grows up and sees the grey shades eventually. Or maybe she’s just a pessimist.

 

 

Before anyone else can notice, Gwen and Peter silently leave everyone and fade away, like shadows in the dark.


	12. Sorry, I've never heard of the word 'sorry' before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this, I started to listen to some of Syd Matters's songs which sort of was weird given that they sounded sad and surreal when it really didn't fit this chapter that much. The songs I've listened to were really good and I've never actually heard them before, but they really did not fit the tone I needed for this chapter [luckily, it didn't actually affect the chapter much].
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> The one song I kept listening to was "Tired Young Man" in specific.
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> Also, I wrote this while tired so it may seem disjointed at times.

“Anna! There you are!” Peter calls out and Anna looks at him with the most unamused look one can manage. She’s talking to someone, or probably several people, on her phone and Peter doesn’t wait for her to tell them to wait or hang up before he’s striding in and putting the documents from the base before her. “Take this down and have everyone look over the formulas and information on these documents down in investigation. Tell them to contact me immediately and to _not_ contact the Avengers or SHIELD until I’ve been informed, even if they’re contacting us or trying to gain audience.”

“What—“ Anna tries, but Peter immediately interrupts her. “Remember that if they don’t have a warrant, they can’t actually investigate or try to take any research from us. Here—“ he puts a tape down on Anna’s desk and she stares at him. “If they try to argue that we stole evidence, play this tape so that they know that they consented and agreed to giving the evidence over to Spider-man to give to Parker industries.  Remind them that this isn’t classified as terrorist attacks yet, and they can’t do anything.”

She looks at him _very_ blankly, as though unable to really respond to him proper and Peter laughs nervously. “Anyway! I gotta go- papers to sign, people to talk to, places to beeee… byyyye?” he is immediately gone and Anna just sighs and apologises to the person that she is talking to, grabs the tape, and she is back to being the best damn secretary Peter has had and will ever have.

The moment he isn’t in the same presence as Anna, he completely sheds the nervous and anxious look and walks with the façade of total and utter confidence, responding to anyone who wants to talk to him with absolute certainty and not even staggering when people stop him for absolutely no reason. One of the many things that Peter will never stop thanking Gwen for is her boundless confidence because he is definitely sure that without that he won’t be able to fake it so well.

Or at least feel some semblance of actual confidence as he walks along the halls, his heels clicking against the floor in a way that seems to notify _everyone_ he is around and Peter can’t help but think how odd his life has gotten.

Sure, wanting a company is initially Otto’s idea but its Peter, himself, who actually goes and gets the loan and ends up making a god damn _popular phone_ that jumpstarts his career. Sure, people are beginning to recognise him for the fact that he refuses to not dip his fingers into _anything_ that has to do with medical advancements, but he is _still_ famous for his Pipper, the Parker phone.

In Peter’s opinion, the phone is just a bastardised version of an iphone. People seem to think otherwise. People are _weird._ Still; Peter isn’t going to say no to the fortune that helps him out with everything in his life… especially helps him out with making sure aunt May is safe.

Today, he has a full day of being Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy has a full day of being Spider-gal, and he wonders what’s going to happen with her out and about. Is she going to run into Deadpool? Are they going to argue again? Are they going to be okay?

Three hours into work and checking that everything is fine, checking up on their research and their progress, and even working on and engaging in some of the experiments that his scientists are busy with. He checks up on their mobile technology, highfives the techies there because _really_ those guys are awesome and work too hard for him, and then goes back to his office – which is a pale pink hue that is still clearly pink – and sits down to look over the paperwork he has been neglecting lately.

 

And boy, he has been neglecting _a lot_ of paperwork. A part of him just _really_ wants to go to sleep right now. He’ll have a ten minute nap later; for now, he has to work or else Anna Maria is going to chew him out for not doing his work and putting it off again. He is so tired.

* * *

Wade thinks that he really should have expected this. Spider-gal isn’t really looking at him or paying attention to much of anything, and it shows in the way she nearly slips up a few times in combat and Wade  _really does not like_ having to save his own hero, because it’s  _really nerve wracking_ to see Spider-gal react far too late to her own spider-sense.

Who knew that the Spider-duo’s weakness is overthinking? Well, Wade does now and he really, _really_ doesn’t like it. He is thinking in ways that a writer should be ashamed of; way too many ‘reallys’ in two paragraphs, honestly, and he shakes his head in shame. But he has better things to focus on right now… like the fact that Spider-gal is actually looking at him.

Or… he thinks she is. He can’t really… see and… _yeah._ “Babe?” Wade says, hopeful, his eyes growing wide and his hands clasping together as though in prayer and Spider-gal moves back a bit. He bets she’s making some sort of face at him, and a part of him wonders what she looks like. With how distracted she is today, Wade bets that he can reach forward and…

“Don’t call me that.” Spider-gal says. “Or, well, not right now at least. I’m trying to be serious right now.” Oh boy. Serious talks are never good for Wade. Like, _ever._ “And before you start freaking out because you look like you are, it’s nothing bad against _you.”_

“Hah! As if I’d think you’d ever be able to say anythin’ bad ‘bout me, Spiduh.” He waits for her to correct him on that nickname, but when Spider-gal just waits for him to say something he inhales shakily. “There is _nothing_ you can say that’ll hurt me.”

She tilts her head to the side. “Don’t ever come to our patrols, ever again.” She suddenly says and Wade freezes. “See? I can definitely hurt your feelings, and that’s not even going into what I really think can hurt you.” When he looks away, ashamed of himself, Spider-gal continues. “And that ain’t what I’m here for, Pool.” With that, Spider-gal finally stops squatting at the edge of the roof and just sits normally, her hands curled into fists on her lap and her gaze elsewhere.

“So uh…” he makes his way over to her and sits next to her, but Spider-gal effortlessly pushes him away a small distance – not too much to be hurtful, but enough to let Wade knows she needs space – and he twiddles his thumbs. “I mean, baby—I mean, Spiduh, I’m not really _great_ with this whole talky talky thing, so, if you could _really_ just get on with it so that I’m not a ball of talking anxiety – not that I’m not always talking, merc with the mouth and all… even though, merc doesn’t really _apply_ anymore because I ain’t killing people as much anymore—“

“I’m sorry.”

“—yeah, yeah me too—wait. What?”

“Do you want me to say it in another language? Because I only know je suis désolé' and I don’t think that counts.”

“Are you actually saying sorry to me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not hearing things?”

“Dooon’t think so? I ain’t you.”

“Am I hallucinating?”

“What?”

“Hit me.” The moment he says that, Spider-gal immediately smacks him on his thigh and he jerks upright and has to be grabbed by her to not fall forward. “YOWZA! That is _definitely_ you. Why are—why are you apologising to me?! Shouldn’t I be apologising to you?”

She rolls her shoulders and looks away, the sunset making her look far too pretty in the setting orange huge, and Wade – again – wonders how nice it may be to wake up next to Spider-gal or Spider-man. He wonders what it feels like to actually see their faces. Do they have moles? Scars? Are their eyes drooped or wide? Are their lips big or thin?

Doesn’t he have a conversation that he should be participating in?  Wade can see Spider-gal’s jaw moving and her hands gesturing so… Yeah, he needs to be participating in this conversation. “Wha?” he says, intelligently, and Spider-gal laughs.

“Yeah, I knew you were zoning out. I was talking about my masturbation habits.”

His jaw drops. “What! What!? No! No way! Please talk about it again! I’ll zone out again, or pretend to! You can’t just do that to a guy, Spider-gal, what the hell!”

She laughs again, her voice nice and melodic, and Wade stops to just look at her before he puts on the frantic expression. “Well, I lied anyway, so don’t get too excited. I was actually singing the Barney song, so you didn’t miss out on anything. I was just… waitin’ for you to, y’know, _notice._ ”

“… I zoned out.”

Spider-gal nods. “I noticed. But, like I said, you don’t have to apologise—well, you kinda do because I don’t think you really apologised, but you don’t need to do it anymore. I, however, _really_ gotta apologise.”

“But… but why? You didn’t really _do_ anything!”

“I yelled at you.” She admits easily, not even hesitant or anything. Wade just looks at her with wide-eyed wonder. She spins her hand around in a circle as she talks, her head swaying side to side a little. “I got mad at you when I really shouldn’t’ve, because I got _scared_ and protective… even though I know Spidey can take care of himself.

“I took my anger out on _you_ when I coulda talked to you the day I came and kicked you in the balls—“

“ _Thanks_ for that.”

“Yeah, no, I ain’t apologisin’ for that because the sound you made was _fucking hysterical._ Besides, you’ll heal.” With a simple _shrug_ as though she didn’t commit the heinous act of kick Wade’s nuts with barely held restraint, Spider-gal just keeps on talking. A part of him feels horribly insulted that she doesn’t treat his testicles with the respect of not being kicked that they deserve.

Another part of him reminds him that her leg, even if harmfully, made contact with his balls. He feels abnormally creepy for that. “So…” she looks down at her knees, her fingers now splayed flat atop of them. “Seriously, my bad. I’m… sorry I probably said some pretty awful shit.”

He flounders a moment, his hands waving in the air and his voice stuck in his throat, and Spider-gal looks at him and waits while he wonders what to say or do. How the hell is he going to respond to that? When is the last time someone actually apologised to him?

“Uhhh.” Wow, Wade is doing _really_ well with the intelligent conversations tonight, isn’t he? He opens and closes his mouth, and jolts in surprise when Spider-gal puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “ _Uhhh._ I am totally having a boner right now.”

Spider-gal snorts. “Uh, buddy, your pants don’t leave anything to the imagination. You’re limper than a lukewarm sausage.” He blinks _very slowly_ at her. “Don’t ask, okay? It made a ton more sense in my _head_ than it does outside, don’t look at me that way!”

“Fiiine, okay.” Wade relents. “I’m a limp biscuit. But… how do you… respond to someone saying sorry to you?”

“…”

“What!?”

“That is… probably the saddest thing I’ve heard today. Just accept my apology, Pool, it’s not too hard—“

“But I really don’t think you did anything, baby girl!” Whoops, his tongue slipped. “So you lost your temper a bit, nothing I ain’t used too—everyone’s always yelling and screaming at me, sweetheart!”

She crosses her arms and straightens her back up, and even though Wade _is_ taller he definitely feels way smaller. “Deadpool, I am _sorry_ for being an ass to you.”

“You really-“

“ _Deadpool.”_

“… I… accept your apology.” He says, begrudgingly, and Spider-gal looks away. “What? I said I accept it!”

“Will you accept it more sincerely if I get you some thai food?”

“Oh baby, you know it. The fastest way to my heart is through my stomach—though, don’t try to cut my belly out, it ain’t fun!”

She lets out a suffering sigh. “Deadpool, I am not going to cut your belly out. Stay here, there’s a thai place right underneath us and I’m gonna go get us some food.” The gentle sound of a ringtone stops Spider-gal in her place and she shuffles back a bit as she grabs her phone – it’s different from the one Wade is used to seeing; it’s covered in stickers – before putting it away. “Sorry, personal business and all. I’ll be back in a second!”

And with that, Spider-gal falls on all fours and skitters her way down the building and Wade watches her form grow smaller and smaller the further down she goes.

**[You don’t deserve her kindness.]**

He grabs his own phone and tries to see if he can text Shiklah right now and busy himself with her hobby-talk until Spider-gal gets back with their thai food. His mind wanders even though he tries not to let it, tries to get it back on track and think instead of all the femurs that Shiklah has collected or all the crazy ass alien skulls that she likes to hoard.

Where does she even get the alien skulls anyway? Shouldn’t Wade be telling the scientists shmientists about the existence of life beyond their pitiful little Earth in the universe?

… that isn’t what Wade is about. He isn’t a hero of science, and… he isn’t really a hero yet, is he? He looks down at where he can’t catch sight of Spider-gal anymore, and reminds himself that that is what a hero looks like. Welcoming, wonderful, warm… Wade Winston Wilson is none of those.

Wade definitely isn’t all that heroic… what kind of hero acts the way he does? Sure, heroes may joke or quip, but they never act the way Wade does. How does Wade even act, anyway? Perverse, threatening, scary, gross…

 

And he’s a useless dad, too.

 

What kind of hero is he? Really, Wade doesn’t blame the Avengers for not fully accepting him yet— _“Work on your morality. Your ethics. We aren’t going to accept you as an Avengers until you behave more favourably. You can be an honorary member, however.”_ – and he sure as hell doesn’t blame Spider-gal for losing her temper.

If Wade is in her shoes and he meets someone like him… Wade will _never_ trust them. Never, ever. Do the spider-duo even trust him anyway? Is it right of him to assume something like that?

Staring down at the small words that Shiklah has sent him, he texts out a ‘yellow rocket’ to her and the response is instantaneous.

 _‘Wade, strongest drinks will be ready in an hour. Trashiest show’ll be on TV.’_ Though the ‘I’m here to talk’ isn’t there, Wade smiles beneath his mask and puts his phone away. He thinks he sees Spider-gal crawling up with their order.

Bizarrely enough, he almost feels too guilty to eat.

**[You don’t deserve it.]**

Probably doesn’t, but he still rolls his mask up to eat some anyway. Spider-gal will – bless her heart – worry over him if he doesn’t.

Or maybe she won’t.

He hopes she won’t and never will.

* * *

As Peter expects, SHIELD  _does_ eventually send someone in to try and get the documents from his company. Hobie’s around to scare them off while pretending to be Spider-man, so it isn’t that bad. They don’t get into investigations and they can’t do it legally, anyway, so Peter finds himself relaxed about the entire ordeal.

Well, relaxed is a very nice way of putting it. Less anxious is more apt, but he supposes that that is a bit too harsh. Mellow? Will mellow work for this? Ah, whatever, all he cares about is the fact that SHIELD isn’t here and they can’t really do anything about the documents unless they want this to be labelled as a terrorist threat.

He leaves early – or, well, what can count as early for him – so that he can go back to his own flat, not Gwen’s, to vacuum it up and then just… go to sleep. Well, not yet at least, because he has a call to Anna to make and he’s sitting in his small kitchen right now, waiting for her to reply, while monochrome colours surround him.

When she finally picks up, the first thing Peter hears is a sigh. _“Pete.”_ She says, her voice light and unamused, and Peter hums in response. _“Are you calling me to actually explain to me what’s going on with this morning, or am I gonna have to guess?”_

“Sorry Anna,” Peter says, not sorry at all. “You’re gonna have to guess. I’m actually calling about our trip to China—“

_“Well, you still haven’t chosen a date or time for it yet… and I’m going to guess that you aren’t going to any time soon?”_

“Not until my work as Spidey’s done, sorry Anna. Are our—“

_“Nah, not really. I got Hobie to video call them as Spider-man and he basically went on and on about his work and how he’s personally apologetic because he’s keeping you here due to his own work and all that. They’re willing to wait until you’re done, but if you start something else immediately after they’re gonna call it all off.”_

“Aw, shoot.” He rubs at his forehead and bounces his legs. “Well, make sure to give Hobie extra pay the next time his paycheck’s coming along. He saved my butt.”

_“Reeeally did. You should learn to save your own ass by now-“_

Peter gasps, faux-offended, and places a hand on his chest. “You can’t see it, but I am totally offended by how you’re referring to your _boss—_ “ _‘and unwilling ex.’_ “—right now!”

_“Mmmhmm. Right. Is there anything else you need, Peter?”_

“Can you – no, nevermind. I don’t actually—no, thank you, Anna, I’m good.”

 _“If you say so. Well, I still have work to do so you enjoy yourself, you free stallion.”_ And with that, Anna hangs up on him and Peter _finally_ gets up and falls on his small bed and stares at the out-of-place, old and worn-down plush cat on the bedside table.

With his phones nearby, his eyes flutter shut and he sighs and falls asleep _very_ easily despite it only being seven at night.

 

 

At three in the morning, he gets a call on his work phone and ends up jerking awake and nearly dropping his second phone. He answers it without thinking and presses his earbuds in, his eyes struggling to stay open. “Hello?” Peter says, voice rough with sleep and he’s about to drift off again until he realises that it’s a report on the documents.

He sits up properly this time, eyes piercing his phone and his eyes widen at what he hears. “A reversing— wait. What are they trying to…?” he remembers the beastlike or ruined creatures he saw at the base and he chews on his lower lip, wondering if the bad guys are actually… trying to fix something.

But then… why are they attacking—? He gets his answer a moment later when the person on the other end continues talking and Peter goes still. “Don’t contact SHIELD or the Avengers about this.” Peter says, voice cold. “I’m going to send Spider-man to talk to SHIELD and get them to explain themselves.

 _“No._ Hide the documents, make sure that they never find a reason to come down—I’m going to make Spider-man force them to answer themselves for this. Is that _understood?_ Do **not** contact SHIELD or the Avengers. Do **not.** And keep this **private.** No leaking, or we’ll have a situation on our heads.” With that said, he hangs up, removes the buds, and puts his phone down.

 

He shouldn’t be hiding from SHIELD, but this shouldn’t be hidden from the citizens of the U.S either. So, really, when Peter thinks about it… he feels absolutely _no_ guilt for hiding anything from SHIELD.

Tomorrow, when the time comes, he is going to make them answer and he is definitely going to make sure Gwen is able to tag along because he is sure that once she learns what has been hidden from them that she does _not_ want to sit around idle.

Though it takes time, sleep comes back to Peter eventually. He dreams of cages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I'm finished with this arc, I'm going to be posting my notes regarding this arc on my tumblr and then go and start another arc that will be hopefully more centralised and focused on the three of them instead of something bigger than these three.


	13. Free your birds, they'll save [eat] you in the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [can this be Spidey's new costume, Marvel?](http://image.dhgate.com/0x0/f2/albu/g2/M01/B1/75/rBVaG1VFvXKAIX5UAAD7nqWPiqo970.jpg) Minus the domino mask. I like his actual mask more.
> 
> Warnings for violence and maybe a bit of gore here.

Today doesn’t seem like it’s going to be a good day, and Gwen blames it wholly on the fact that from the moment that Peter and her go patrolling they have a baddie immediately and things keep on escalating. As it turns out, as well, Peter is right: Scorpio _does_ intend to attack soon, and by soon she means today, and by today she means right after they attacked the base and got the iron suit thieves.

So, yeah, Gwen is definitely sure that today doesn’t seem like it’s going to be a good day when they find Scorpio lifting cars up and throwing it into shops, tail wildly spraying around acid all over buildings and vehicles. People are screaming and running away, trying to avoid the splashes of terrifyingly strong acid that burns away at everything it touches.

Needless to say, Scorpio is really angry. She lands next to a cowering couple and picks them up, ignoring their screams of fear and shock – seriously, how does Peter handle the constant screaming? – and she dodges quickly when Scorpio tries to slam his tail down onto the concrete, narrowly missing Gwen and the screaming couple in her arms.

“Go!” Gwen yells out as she drops the two men off and they are frozen still, and it’s only when she claps her hands – really loud and hard, ow, her palms hurt – do they run away, nearly stumbling over their own feet.

When she looks over, she catches sight of Peter catching one of the cars that Scorpio is throwing away and launching it back at him, though the car is easily melted apart when a large splash of acid hits it. “You— _you spiders—_ I’m going to get you! Get you! **GET YOU!”** Scorpio screams, his voice hysterical and unhinged, and Gwen pounces over and shoves both Peter away from the line of acid that Scorpio is releasing.

“How’d he get out?” Gwen asks, crouching next to Peter, and she’s only able to get a shrug before they have both dodge opposite directions when their spider-senses go haywire.

Ah, the blessed spider-sense. She is definitely going to have a small headache after all this. “Hey, acid breath! Maybe you wanna calm down and brush your teeth first! I can smell your breath all the way from over here!” Peter yells out and Scorpio lets out a roar, mouth open wide and looking _gross_ with the amount of saliva that the guy has in his maw.

It almost makes her wonder how people have been treating Scorpio because she _knows_ that he hasn’t been like this before being taken to jail. Either being in prison is affecting Scorpio badly, or the people there are being jackasses to the villains.

Whatever the problem, Gwen launches herself up in the air and slams her feet down onto Scorpio’s head when he’s about to charge over to where Peter is and manages to give him a back flipping kick while he’s disorientated from the kick.

Before he can regain his balance, Peter’s jumping and webbing two points of interest, bringing the web all the way to his back, and he uses the momentum of launching himself with the web-net to deliver a kick to Scorpio’s stomach.

It becomes a trading of blows after that. Peter is far, _far_ more cautious than her when it comes to Scorpio and reacts far more quickly, something that Gwen has always been wondering about since Peter is twenty, and there is only a few times where they are hit in the stomach – ow. Why – and sent flying.

No one is around, at least, so they don’t have to worry about endangering any civilians. The fight ends when Peter is able to grab onto Scorpio’s tail when Gwen punches said villain in the face and then proceed to clog the tail up and cause whatever mechanism helping it spew acid to fry. It takes only a few more hard punches to the face before Scorpio’s out cold, and they both web him up for extra safety.

“A’righty then!” she wipes her hands clean. “That’s one bad guy down. You callin’ shield yet, Spidey?” when Peter doesn’t answer her, she looks away from Scorpio to catch him just staring at his phone. It’s definitely the spidey-work phone – red and blue, like his old colours – but Peter isn’t doing anything with it.

When Gwen walks over to him and gingerly takes the phone from his hand, Peter follows the movement and just stares at his phone. “Uh. You wanna clue me in on—?”

“You call SHIELD today. I don’t feel like it.” Peter says, something off in his voice, but Gwen doesn’t say anything and frowns instead. She brings up the number to contact SHIELD and get them to send someone over to detain Scorpio, and she ends up _arguing_ with whoever is on the other end.

People at SHIELD are either insufferable, tolerable, or the Hawkeyes, and it doesn’t need to be said that Gwen really prefers the Hawkeyes. “I swear, these guys are turning into more and more assholes with each day that passes by.” Gwen grumbles as she gives Peter his phone back, but she doesn’t get a response from him.

That’s weird, Peter almost always joins in on opportunities to shit talk SHIELD. “Spidey,” Gwen begins, “is something going on that I don’t know about?”

“Yes.” Well, at least he is _very_ honest about it. No side-stepping or anything. “But I’m not gonna tell it to you now—let’s see how the rest of the day goes before I tell you anything, okay?”

She bites down on her lower lip hard enough to nearly make it bleed, but Gwen sighs and nods. “Okay, fine, but you’re _gonna_ tell me, right? Like, not today, maybe, given that today’s been pretty busy but… tomorrow?”

He brings his pinky finger up and Gwen can imagine the way the corners of Peter’s eyes crinkle with his wide smile, looking absolutely ridiculous with his pinky up. She can’t help the small smile either, her own pinky finger coming up to wrap around Peter’s. “Pinky promise.” He says before letting go and Gwen nods and follows after him.

Hopefully, things will be smooth sailing from now on.

* * *

Of course, the day doesn’t go as well as it could have. Today seems to be the day that everyone wants to just  _not_ stop fighting; they’ve been at this since eight in the morning (it’s really cold in the mornings! Why are people fighting in the damn cold?) and now it’s four o’clock and Gwen is just  _tired._ The moment they stop, hunching over with their hands on their knees and trying to breathe, Gwen slams her fist onto the building to her left hard enough to leave a dent.

Peter just exhales. “We should get water.” Peter admits, his breathing heavy and voice sounding strained, and Gwen bets he’s as tired and as thirsty as she is… and not in the modern meaning of the word ‘thirsty’ either. Seriously, whoever that came up with the idea that ‘thirsty’ also means ‘lusting hard’ deserves a high-five.

“Yep!” she croaks. “Probably should.” However, Gwen jolts in surprise when her own spider-phone goes off and a moment later, Peter’s own phone goes off. The moment she checks to see what text she has gotten, Gwen almost throws her phone at the wall and yells.

 

An attack is happening over at Manhattan and they’re both needed there… and the people who have contacted them are the Avengers and _damn it._ This can only mean one thing…

“Before we go.” Peter says, interrupting her thoughts. “I need to quickly tell you something.”

* * *

Meanwhile, things are going pretty  _great_ over at Manhattan… “Aw fuck!” Wade yells out as one of the fuckers shoots his arm off. He grabs it with his other one and ducks behind cover, more blasts going off behind him and Wade grits his teeth as he presses his arm against his stump, the muscles immediately trying to reconnect and the pain  _burns_ through him.

Well, fuck. Fuckity fuck. This isn’t really how he expected his day to go. Barely a day into interrogating their new prisoners with no results, everyone in SHIELD losing their fucking shit because they don’t have the documents from the base and when they went to go get them again the base is _empty…_

They have a ton of mutated _mutants_ in their base, all of them with their DNA horribly mangled and mixed with several other mutants and their bodies have all gone completely fucking whacko trying to handle it all.

Some of them look like melted, oozing clay, some looking like monster-animals, and others are just catatonic. Trying to talk to the mutated mutants (seriously, that is so weird to think about) yields no results either because most of them can’t even talk properly, or don’t seem capable of understanding any of them.

 

And it’s not like they seem to want to answer anyone either. The scientists – both from AGMG and from the government _itself_ – refuse to answer anything. None of them crumble under Natasha’s interrogation, nor Wade’s, or even Nick Fury’s for god’s sake, and several of them have already committed suicide.

Yes.

_Su. i. cide._

Every time one of them is close to cracking – and they generally seem to be the ‘newbies’ that are close to cracking – they immediately yell out some sort of word and immediately explode, guts and bones splattering everywhere like a nasty coat of paint.

So, yes, Wade is very, _very much_ not having a good fucking time. Especially not when _he_ is the one being blamed for the fact that the Spiders took off with the documents and ran, even though Clint is the one who gives it to them—

**[He’s also in massive trouble, Wade.]**

Okay, that’s true.

Still, he isn’t really happy with his day today. “Shit, fuck, damn it all to _fuck!”_ he yells out as one of the SHIELD agents is sent flying right next to him, slamming up against the wall, and Wade runs up to the guy and picks him up before another blast is sent their way. His arm is healed up now, but it still hurts like a bitch.

This is not a great way to spend his day—he hasn’t even had a chance to hang out with his spiders! And from what Wade can tell, they have both been busy with crime today – and Wade is sure he can think of a thousand better ways. One of them can be spent sitting in the living room, watching TV while Shiklah does the nasty with several of her lovers.

Seriously, she is _exceptionally_ loud and Wade often ends up focusing on her sexscapades trying to figure out what is going on in that bedroom. Seriously, how do supernatural beings have sex? It must be some crazy wicked shit from Wade can understand—

“Deadpool! Get down!”

Oh, right, he is in the middle of taking an overwhelmed SHIELD agent to safety while AGMG are attacking and gathering up a lot of attention. “Whoahoa hey!” he jerks back and holds the yelling SHIELD agent bridal style with two people send a blast in front of him and he’s turning on his heels and doing his best to get them to safety—

“Stand _still,_ you government working—“ one of his attackers is about to say, but then he hears the most beautiful thing—the _exact_ thing that Wade needs to brighten up his day…

“Yoohoo, metal boy, aren’t you gonna give your girl some attention!?”

… he hears Spider-gal’s voice as she flies in and slams up against his attacker and Wade nearly breaks his neck trying to look behind him. The other fucker flying about is suddenly grabbed by something – webs! Spider-man is here too, oh joy oh joy! – and thrown away and Wade has never been happier to see them in his entire life.

That’s a lie. He’s always happy to see these two, even if Spider-gal did apologise to him and it’s… it’s weird. He’s not going to lie; he doesn’t expect apologies, and still isn’t over the fact that Spider-gal has apologised to him. This must be an illusion, seriously; who the hell apologises to Wade, _Deadpool,_ of all people?

**_{You know, as much as I loooove taking about our baby girl, maybe you should FOCUS SO DON’T GET IN TROUBLE.}_ **

Asshole.

**_{I HEARD THAT.}_ **

He throws the SHIELD agent someplace safe – he guesses – once the attackers are at least distracted long enough and both the Spiders land to his side. They tilt their heads and Spider-gal crosses her arms while Spider-man rests his hands, low, on his hips and Wade shrugs. “He’s gonna be fine!” he reassures, pointing with his thumb over to where the SHIELD agent is, and they just shake their heads.

“Whatever, D.P.” Spider-man says – **[Do you think he knows what it means?]** – and then he’s gone, jumping off to fight off the groups of not only iron suit clad folk, it seems, but people with _very advanced_ guns.

Damn, why do they never get advanced guns?

With Spider-gal hanging behind a bit, she snaps her fingers and waves at him. “Don’t break anything!” she says before she’s gone too, and Wade can’t help but feel lonely. Well, whatever—he unsheathes his katanas and twirls them in his hands, turning around to look at the groups… holy shit, _groups_ of people attacking Manhattan.

Sure, they may not look intimidating but when one of them throws a grenade that drags objects and people to it and then explodes, Wade realises that he really needs to take this shit seriously. Like, the most serious he has ever taken anything and he’s sprinting off into action when another grenade is thrown.

He presses it against himself, trying to keep it from attracting anyone else, and Wade counts himself lucky when the only thing that happens to him is that his chest _burns_ and bursts with the explosion that sends him flying and tumbling on the ground.

There’s a roar from behind him and something large and green leaps over him and slams down onto the ground, and it doesn’t take Wade long to realise that it’s the big green jolly giant that is running around giving them help.

Shit, they really must not have put that much of a dent on the group that is attacking them if there is still a ton of them around. Getting up on his feet despite the squelching of his muscles and flesh trying to heal, Wade grabs his katanas and charges in to try and disarm several of these guys, keeping in mind that maybe he shouldn’t cut their arms off.

Do _not_ literally dismember these guys, Deadpool! What will your friends think of you then? … Eh, probably not worse than what they think of him already. Still, he has been doing pretty well and to throw away progress like that seems like such a misuse of his time… and the trust others have in him.

“We need something to knock them all out at once.” He hears someone say, and it takes him some time to realise that Janet is flying near him. “There is _way_ too many of them, and they all have modified old Avengers tech…”

That _is_ true. Or, well, not all of the technology here is Avengers tech—he recognises some of them as SHIELD weapons, something that the group used to use before the world has cracked down on them and looks at them with a far, _far_ more critical eye. Using overly lethal weapons like these on _all_ criminals and bad guys isn’t good for publicity, or something like that.

So they are all meant to be stored away in little tin can’s storage area, though it seems that not even _that_ is safe of theft. “So what’cha suggesting, Waspie?” Wade coos, ducking and sweeping the leg (video games are useful kiddos! So is years of combat training and the interest in other forms of fighting), his hand letting go of his katana just so that he can jab his attacker in the throat and shove them off.

“Knock ‘em out.” She stops momentarily to fly towards someone and punch them, and he watches in a bit of awe as she just sends them _flying._ It still amazes him how hard someone that small can hit… Well, not small as in _short small_ but small as in _actually small small._ “We’ve already called SHIELD up for back-up, so just wait for them to get here!”

“Baaabe, what about us? SHIELD this, SHIELD that, I’m beginning to think you don’t love me!” he whines, and Janet flies over to him to slap his face. He is sure she meant to hit him gently, but his head whips to the side and there is a sickening crack and Janet is apologising profusely. “Hhhkay- I’m okay. Yowza, Janet, firecracker ain’t ya?”

“Hah, hah—right. I can’t— _kill_ you.” She shakes her head. “Don’t do anything stupid, Deadpool.” She flies away then to go deal with a different group, and Wade stares at her tiny form practically disappear in the distance before he goes to find a group to deal with on his own.

So, just keep them busy until SHIELD comes along, huh? _Sounds fun!_

 

Perhaps it’s been at least a good long while, but Wade definitely wishes that he has tranq guns with him at least because it’s _very_ tiring trying not to accidentally kill people in the heat of people. **[Shoulda listened to us.]**

Shut up.

Anyway… it’s not all _that_ bad, though. In the end, his back bumps up against someone else’s and he’s about to turn around and elbow them hard until he realises three things. One: the person has a super strong grip. Two: they are very short. Three: it’s Spider-man.

“Oh! Baby _boy_ there you are!” Wade gasps and fawns over Spider-man and he merely gets stared at while the grip on his elbow gets harder and harder. “Ghk—okay, baby boy, _pain zone, pain zone!_ ”

“Oh, sorry.” Spider-man says, his voice soft and the word more of a surprised exhale than anything and he lets go finally… his grip definitely has left some very temporary marks on his skin, and Wade holds back from kissing the area near his elbow. “Have you seen Spider-gal?”

Wade shakes his head. “Nope!” he says cheerily and yelps when Spider-man grabs him and yanks him down, forcing him to duck and avoid something been shot their way and he looks at him with wide eyes. “Dude, I need me a spider-sense!”

“Ya don’t.” Spider-man drawls out, though he does grab at Wade again and fling them elsewhere when someone starts shooting at them again. He hears Spider-man sigh, annoyed, and Wade shrugs at him while grinning widely.

He’s pressed up against Spidey! This is now the best day ever, screw everything else that happened before!

Seriously!

“There’s _so many_ of them.” Spider-man says after a while, sounding so _tired_ and Wade frowns. He proceeds to rub at his face – er, mask – before he stands up and jumps up and swings away to battle, legs pressed together and he goes flying in the sky so that he can hit one of the aerial attackers and Wade hums.

Spider-man has been fighting crime nonstop today, hasn’t he? Poor baby must be tired and hungry. Wade makes a note to convince the Spider-duo to stop for the day and that he’ll take care of everything, though he doesn’t know if they will _actually_ listen to him or no. He doubts that they’re okay with him taking over their duty for him.

Wade knows that he’ll be upset if the Spider-duo try to do that for him.

**[You kill for SHIELD. They don’t.]**

Right.

Speaking of SHIELD; the reinforcements arrive ten minutes later, and during those ten minutes Wade has lost his leg and Kate has to jump in to save him with her arrows ready. Her face is stoic as she lines up her arrows and shoots, her posture perfect and her hair in a ponytail to keep from getting in her eyes.

Being saved by her is not _that_ bad, though Wade doubts she’ll ever want to hear him compliment her fine form. She’d probably smack him playfully, and then pinch his ear in warning like she always does, and Wade huffs.

Well, now is as good a time as any to grab his gun and start shooting—especially when someone else shoots at his leg and _whoops_ there it goes, flying away like an eagle. Well, shooting while on the ground and missing two legs is _definitely_ going to be an uninteresting experience because he has been through this before.

So when reinforcements arrive to deal with the grenades being thrown around and to get rid of any and all hostages, it’s a bit of a relief—it means he gets to be lazy now! Who doesn’t like being lazy in the middle of a practical battleground in Manhattan?

“Okay—that’s just _ew.”_ Kate says as she lifts Wade up, and it doesn’t take him long to realise it’s _probably_ because baby feet is growing out of his stumps. He wriggles his toes and cackles when her face goes green. “Deadpool, if you don’t stop doing that I’m going to vomit all over them.”

He stops laughing immediately at that and Kate grins victoriously. _Meanie._

“They’re too good!” one of the attackers yell – presumably their leader – when their numbers begin to decrease and Wade catches sight of Natasha bringing out her own pistol to shoot at the person to the left of  the leader. “Retreat! Get the fuck away! Now!”

They huddle around each other, then, and Wade and Kate watch in confusion as to why they’re doing that. That’s just making them easier—

One of the attackers’ appearance suddenly changes—no longer is she in a drab and generic looking black outfit, but her colours are neon yellow with light red and her hands are glowing with dark green energy. It spreads over them all and it takes everyone some time to respond.

“FIRE!” Nick Fury is here? Holy shit, that is Nick Fury’s voice. “Don’t let them get away! Don’t let them—“

It doesn’t matter, because by the time the agents are all getting ready to shoot, the group is gone with nothing but scorched green ground to show their leave. Though, unlike other mutants that have the ability to teleport away, there is an odd _stench_ from it—something rancid, like burning flesh, and Wade frowns at what that can mean.

“Scour around!” Nick barks out. “They may not be able to get far! Scour around and check for _any_ signs of them! Move, move, **move!** ” At that, the SHIELD agents nod and they’re immediately scattering, guns at the ready and destruction all around them and Wade huffs.

At least his legs are healing up proper—

The Spider-duo land before Nick, their posture tense and something heavy hanging in the air, and Wade watches as they speak in hushed tones before the SHIELD director points some place and the three of them leave.

“Kate,” Wade exhales, “mind doin’ a dying old man a favour?”

“You can’t die.” Kate points out. “And you’re not old.”

“Will you do me a favour anyway?”

Her eyes narrow. “A’right, that’s your business voice. What is it?”

Wade gestures with his head over to where Nick and the Spider-duo have gone towards, and Kate looks over to the three – hidden away in one of the emptied buildings – and she looks back at him. “Something’s off. Sneak over so that we can listen in on their conversation.”

“Got’cha.” Kate murmurs and then they’re off, taking a small and quick route so that they can get to hear the conversation but hopefully _not_ be caught.

* * *

“Director Fury.” Peter says smoothly. “We need to talk.” He crosses his arms in front of him, a glare on his face despite it being hidden by the mask, and Gwen is standing behind him with her eyes fixed on Nick. “Because you and SHIELD have  _a lot_ of explaining to do.”

At that, Nick narrows his eye and crosses his arms behind him, back straightening up and his expression cold, detached. “And what might _that_ be, Spider-man?”

“Well, I’d like to ask you a question—“

“—I would _like_ to remind you that I am of higher authority, and I could just choose not to answer your questions.”

“And I would like to remind **you** that I have some very sensitive information that could tarnish your reputation!” Peter snaps. “If I’m not wrong, you got the entire media on your back ever since the reveal of how you have sensitive information that _nearly_ got leaked! So unless you want it to be ruined even further-“

Nick brings one hand up and Peter goes quiet at that, though he is _definitely_ seething internally. “You’ve made your point. Now what do you even want to ask me?”

“Do you want to explain to me why you still have mutants in captivity even after the mutants right act?”

Everything is silent. Peter is sure he can hear Nick breathing, can hear the way his lungs work, and he swears he can hear Gwen’s blood flowing and that calms him down at least. He tilts his head back and places his hands on his hips, waiting far too patiently for Nick to say something.

“I have no idea what you’re—“

“Bullshit.” Gwen interrupts. “The documents we retrieved from the base—“

“That you _took_ from us.” Nick interjects.

The atmosphere turns positively _murderous_ at the interruption and Peter rubs at his cheek, looking away as Gwen lets the silence carry her anger for her. “One of your agents willingly gave it to us after we came to an agreement with another agent as well. I believe that we did not _steal it._ So shut up and let me finish talking.

“ _Anyway._ The documents we retrieved? Yeah, they’re not only documents from the—whatever fuck guys—“

“AGMG.” Peter supplies. “Anti-government mutant group. They call themselves the Anti-government mutant group.”

Gwen huffs. “Thank you. But anyway—the anti-government mutant group stole documents from that base… the base that they _hypnotised_ into helping them. Some of them were their own work, and some of them were the work of our very own government-funded scientists!”

“AGMG are trying to cure those mutants.” Peter says, his voice cold. “Do you want to explain why they were being held captive in _SHIELD_ bases, Director Fury?”

“I do _not_ have to explain myself to you.” Is the response they get, tight-lipped and full of fury (hah, at least he still has his humour). “And you do not want to be throwing around accusations.”

Gwen pushes herself away from the wall she’s been leaning on and makes her way over to Nick. She stands up straight to him, her head tilting back so that she can stare up into his eye (and eyepatch), and her shoulders are stiff and straight. “Nick Fury.” Gwen begins. “We have information that would cause a shit ton of problems for you and our president.”

“We are more than willing to give the documents away to the public.” Peter pipes up. “All _you_ have to do is try and explain to us why there are still mutants locked up! What are you even doing!?”

“What did the documents have?” Nick says, and Peter blinks. “What did they _say!?”_

Peter exhales harshly. “They’re trying to reverse something.” He says. “Both AGMG and the scientists before they were hypnotised. They’ve been trying to reverse something, and I don’t know what it is but they’re angry at _you,_ at our military, at our president, and at our laws. Or, well, I would be if I was them.”

“Answer us.” Gwen hisses. “Why are they being locked away? What the hell happened to those poor fucks?”

More silence… then Nick sighs, his hands coming up to rub at his face, and he looks around as if to make sure no one else is listening. “Fine. You got me at between a rock and a hard place. You two should be lucky that I’m under presidential pressure.” With that, he pinches his nose and closes his eye, an irritated sigh escaping him. “However, you are _both_ going to stay quiet about this and you are _not_ going to tell it to the Avengers.”

“They don’t know?” Gwen asks as she steps away, her eyes wide in surprise. “I mean— _we_ don’t know, but the Avengers don’t know? What about the-“

“Hawkeyes and Widow don’t know either. None of the Avengers in SHIELD know. So you better listen up and agree not to share it with them.”

“Fine.” Peter says before Gwen can argue and he makes his way over to her and tugs her back. “Just tell us why we didn’t know.”

“You both know about the claims the mutants made about being experimented on.” Nick begins immediately, and both Spiders go quiet. “They _aren’t_ wrong. Our president, at the time, wanted more captain Americas.

“The president realised, with one Captain America we just aren’t defended _enough._ We don’t have enough attack power. We need more. Of course, the ones who were experimented on and were in captivity were set free after two-thousand three… that is, the ones who were still mostly human.

“See, they tried to enhance mutants, and they tried to mix mutant DNA without having any clue what the hell they were doing, so some of them turned into abominations that were mindless, some of them pretty much acting lobotomised due to conflicting DNA, whatever.”

A part of Peter feels awfully sick. He feels green under the gills and he can feel the discomfort radiating from Gwen as well. Who would just—just experiment on—

 _‘A lot of people.’_ He reminds himself. _‘A lot of people see mutants as a project. They’re not humans. We’re not humans.’_

Despite Peter’s internal dilemma, Nick continues. “Sometimes, they broke out too. They were unstable, killed people, some of them acted like super powered wild animals. They were messed up, and couldn’t be released to the public… and they’d ruin whatever goodwill that might have had if they revealed that there are some mutants they’re trying to cure from their own mistakes.”

“They’re trying to _cure_ them?” Gwen gawks. “Are you kidding me!? Have they been in custody all these years and you’re still telling me they haven’t been cured?! You’ve been hiding them away because of public—I can’t believe this!”

Peter frowns and places a hand on Gwen’s arm, and she jolts from the feeling of his hand on her. She places her own hand atop of his, squeezes, and even though Gwen looks over at him apologetically before looking back to Nick. “Why are they in your bases?”

“SHIELD scientists have been workin’ and helpin’ mutants for years.” Nick admits. “We’re their best bet to curing them.”

“You’re scum.” Gwen spits out, and Nick doesn’t even react. His back is straight, expression stoic and gaze hard, and Peter really needs to leave right about now. “We won’t tell anyone, but you _better_ fix this mess up or so help me—“

He puts his hands on her shoulders now. “Gal,” he says frantically. “Let’s go. _Now._ ”

Without another word to Nick, they make their leave and Peter feels – feels anxious. His mouth feels dry and he –

“I’ll carry you home, okay?” Gwen says suddenly, her voice really soft, and she lifts Peter up easily and he clings to her side tightly. “S’okay, s’okay. Breathe, m’here.” Carefully, she aims and webs at something, jumping away and beginning their swing back home, and Peter doesn’t know—doesn’t know _why_ his heart is beating so quickly.

_‘We’re not human. I’m not a human. I’m not—‘_

* * *

When the Spiders make their leave, Wade is extremely tempted to run in there and choke the  _hell_ out of Nick Fury. He is  _so tempted._ It’s only because of the fact that his legs are still healing and that Kate is there that he doesn’t try to do anything.

“Well,” Kate says, her voice strained, “shit.”

“Yeah.” Wade agrees, teeth gritting. _“Shit.”_

“We can’t let them know we know.” Kate whispers, her words tumbling out of her quickly, and she smacks a hand onto Wade’s mouth when he tries to say something. “No. _Listen to me._ We need to pretend we don’t know. This is serious, we don’t know the full information, and Fury’ll have my ass if he figures out that we know. _We can’t let them know._ ”

 

He thinks back to the trouble that Clint is in, thinks back to how SHIELD is burningly cold, and thinks back to the fact that accusations will fly and the Avengers may or may not suffer from this, and relents. “Don’t like it.” He says when Kate removes her hand. “But I’ll stay quiet for you, birdie.”

“Good.” Kate says, then: “Don’t call me birdie. Seriously.”

“Birdie birdie biiiird.”

“ _Deadpool._ I’m going to take us back now; pretend like nothing happened and that we went and hid away somewhere. We’ll confront Fury when the time’s right.”

He just nods slowly and lets Kate carry him away, his tiny toes wriggling, and she once again looks green in the face at the sight of his healing feet.

Well, that definitely cheers him up at least. Grossing people out with his healing factor is one of his favourite hobbies.

Right next to ‘giving scumbags the justice they deserve’.

 

Wade is still going to have to work for SHIELD, isn’t he? As much as he hates that they’ve been keeping captive mutants hidden… at least they aren’t experimenting on them anymore. At least they’re just trying to cure them now.

[But the fact that they are hidden away from the public in the first place with the hopes of trying to save face is disgusting to him, and Wade hates it. But what can he do? He’s trying to be a hero, and apparently being a hero means pretending to be ignorant until the time is right.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I'm done with this bit of the first arc [that should hopefully not be too long]. Now, after this, I'm going to sit the hell down and relax and instead play around with my three faves while I plot the rest of the first arc out + play with some side stuff and focus on developing these three properly without anything else getting between them. 
> 
> Which of course means I'm going to start focusing on Wade's hatred of Peter Parker now and hopefully try and develop it in a way that is interesting, while also following some of canon scenarios in Spider-man/Deadpool. I'm actually really excited to recreate the scene where Deadpool and Spidey go to the club and the succubus tries to seduce Spidey. I'm also excited to have Wade and Gwen interact some more, and maybe even have a bit of solo time with these two and give Peter some downtime while I completely set their chemistry.
> 
> Then, if I'm lucky, I can focus on how Gwen, Peter and Wade all met in the first place. Like, the three of them at the same time, and stuff. Wow, I am so tired. I'll be posting my notes leading up to this chapter eventually on my tumblr.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	14. Intermission: The worst heroes are the ones you knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Peter Parker is eight years old, he goes to the Octavius Science Camp during the summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking about this one for a while, and I'm glad I got to finally write it. You can see this as set-up, kind of, for the conflict between Wade, Gwen and Pete, but it's really just me trying to flesh out Peter a bit more. And maybe even introduce when Gwen and Peter somewhat first met. Are Gwen and Pete gonna be childhood besties? You bet'cha! I love childhood besties, and Peter definitely deserves one.

When Peter Parker is eight years old, he goes to Doctor Otto Octavius’s science camp in the summer. His uncle is holding his hand and Peter is trying his hardest to hide behind his legs, not wanting to be acknowledged by _anyone_ and he trembles ever so slightly.

 

It’s been two years since he has witnessed his parents die, and Peter doesn’t want to go to science camp. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone. He doesn’t want friends. He just wants to stay at home and only go to school. He doesn’t _want_ to do any of this.

“Dr. Octavius!” Uncle Ben says as the man walks up to him, focusing more on his uncle and less on Peter much to his joy. His hand lands gently down onto Peter’s shoulder and a polite smile spreads on his face. “I’m Ben Parker—this is my nephew, Peter. You… you’ll have to excuse him, he hasn’t had a good past two years.”

Octavius – wow, he’s really tall, Peter thinks when he goes back to hiding behind uncle Ben’s legs – just smiles and nods, hand coming up to adjust his glasses. “I see. Well, no matter the past, I will help your nephew _see_ into the future, Mr. Parker.”

“Thank you, Dr. Octavius, I appreciate it.” Then, he turns to face Peter, his face showing immediate worry. “C’mon, Pete,” Ben says, his voice soothing but not soothing enough, “you’re going to have a great time, champ.” He kneels before Peter, places his hands on his shoulders, and gives him a tired smile. “You’re going to do fine. You’ll love it, I promise.”

Peter tries not to cry when Octavius comes up to him with the nicest smile and an offered hand, and he takes his hand and lets himself be led towards the camp. Uncle Ben waves at him and Peter wants to slip away from Octavius, wants to run away and just go home and go to his room and hug his plushy.

His plushy is his best friend! He really doesn’t need anyone else—why do aunt May and uncle Ben keep insisting that he does?!

“You will like it here, Peter.” Octavius says, his accent thick to Peter’s ears and he looks up at him with wide eyes. “I promise. I will be here if something happens to you, I swear to it.” His words are so kind that Peter can’t help the sniffling and the immediate burst into tears that follow afterwards. He doesn’t expect Octavius to drop on his knees and hug him, holding him close and rubbing his back as he comforts Peter through his tears.

He wails into his chest and curls up even further, trembling and sobbing and Octavius is just rubbing at his back, quiet yet soothing. “Peter, Peter, it’s okay, I promise you; whatever that has happened to you in the past two years will not matter here. We are here for the sake of the future, my boy, not the past.”

Peter nods against his chest, sniffling and hiccupping still, and he lets himself be guided into the actual camp now. It’s a really pale looking building, but it looks nice even through Peter’s blurry gaze and he wipes at his eyes aggressively. Shame burns at his chest and he looks down, face red with humiliation.

They’re gonna bully him. He can see it already. They’re gonna—

“Hiya!” someone says from the side as Octavius comes to a stop and Peter jolts in surprise, pressing up against the doctor’s side as he looks at the blonde girl that has greeted him. “Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before! I mean, I think I’ve seen you in _school?_ But not here! Definitely not here! I came here last year, too—my name’s Gwen!”

When he doesn’t say anything, Octavius steps in to answer her for him. “Gwen, give the boy some time to get used to the camp, hm? Then you can talk science with him all you’d like.” She looks at Peter curiously, as though not sure why he can’t respond to her now, but then Gwen looks up at Octavius with the prettiest smile he has ever seen and he hides his face against the doctor’s leg.

The first day at camp isn’t anything to be excited about, but then the next few days roll around and Peter immediately wants to run away. They have to actually start working on their own experiments, learning, and he trembles and shakes with everyone staring at him and shoving at him whenever he doesn’t answer.

 

Gwen steps in for him all the time, though Peter doesn’t know why. All he knows is that when people are teasing him, she’s immediately there to yell at the others and get in trouble when she punches some of the kids for being mean towards Peter.

“Violence is not the answer, Gwen. You are better than that.” Octavius says to her all the time, but Gwen always crosses her arms and sticks her tongue out at him and that puts her in even more trouble. Peter thinks he really likes her.

 

When Peter is two weeks into the science camp program, he wants to try something out with his experiments. He’s feeling confident—Peter definitely thinks he can make something to do with stickiness. Glue is always so annoying to use and tape is even worse, so Peter is _sure_ that he has found a way to make things stick to any surface without—

His experiment explodes, covering his face in ashes and Octavius is rushing in to make sure he doesn’t have any burns, that nothing is wrong with him, but all Peter can focus on is how everyone laughs at him and then jeers when Gwen tries to defend him like she always does.

He can’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes while Octavius gently rubs at his face with a wet towel, away from everyone else, and Peter hiccups and sniffs.

“Ignore them,” Octavius says suddenly, something sad in his voice, “they make fun of you, they will never see how bright you are, but you _must_ persevere. You are a very bright and promising boy, Parker; do not let the idiocy of others stop you.

“Keep trying, Peter. Failures are common in experiments, more common than you _think_ my boy, and you will get the hang of it eventually. You are young, you make mistakes, and you will learn and do better with them.”

Without thinking, he hugs the doctor and curls into him, sobbing all the while and Octavius holds him with one arm. “Would you like me to call your uncle?” he nods, and Octavius lifts him up and takes him away to his office so that he can wait there for uncle Ben after he has called him.

“Promise me this, Peter. No matter who belittles you, hurts you, you will _always_ pursue science. Intelligence like yours really should _not_ be wasted.”

Peter stays quiet, but Octavius pets the side of his head and he raises it finally to look at the doctor. “Will we have to pinky promise, Parker?” even though he _still_ feels sad and he _still_ feels hurt, Peter can’t help but enthusiastically bring his pinky finger up. Octavius wraps his pinky around Peter’s and he shakes his head. “Childish,” he says, not meanly. “But it is a promise.”

“I promise I’ll continue studyin’ science!” Peter says, his voice weird and wobbly sounding, and Octavius nods. “I’ll be the _best_ doctor! Like you, Mr. Otto!”

“That you will, Parker. Now, let us get you home so that I may return to the children.”

 

Years later, Doctor Otto Octavius becomes known as Doctor Octopus, and Peter continues to see him as the hero that jumpstarts his interest in science. Even as the years go on, even as Doctor Octopus deteriorates morally, and even as he’s yelling and swearing revenge against Peter [as Spider-man], he still sees him as the hero that jumpstarts his interest in science.

He sees him at the man who has helped him grow intellectually, as the man who has helped him be the scientist he is today, as the man who has inspired him to finish university and medical school even if it is almost impossible when Peter is Spider-man.

 

 

 

And it’s only when Doctor Otto Octavius takes over his body does Peter Parker finally lose all hopes that his hero will ever come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few days ago, I was talking to my friend about two AUs... one inspired somewhat by the role reversal AUs, and another one inspired by Spider-noir where Peter is Spider-man in the morning and Spider-noir in the night. I would love to write them both one day!


	15. Ba-boom, ba-boom, heart's moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually started feeling a bit physically ill halfway through writing this [not because of the chapter itself, just outside forces], which may explain the story halfway through. Seriously, I don't know what's wrong with me and I just. BLERGH.
> 
> As well, quick emetophobia warning here! No actual puking happens, but talks about puke does happen.
> 
>  **EDIT:** The age of the Spider-duo has been changed.

The Spider-duo are exceptionally gorgeous when they’re fighting, Wade thinks, because that is the only time he gets to see a part of them. Sure, Wade definitely knows what their lips look like – Gal’s is thinner than Man’s – and he has definitely hung out with them for far too long [yet it’s only around now, recently, that they are actually giving him the time of day] but he doesn’t really _know_ them.

So whenever Wade gets to watch them fight and, hell, even participate? He savours the fuck outta it. Those two practically dance with a ballerina’s grace in their fights, coordinated and constantly aware of each other’s movements.

When Spider-man manages to punch someone over to Spider-gal, she always _knows_ and spin kicks them out and away. When Spider-man ducks when Spider-gal is at her back, she turns and attacks the asshole that’s attacking him. When Spider-gal is throwing people left and right, Spider-man webs them down and punches them in the face.

They _are_ coordinated; sliding past each other and ducking and fighting in synch, and Wade can’t help the envy that grips his heart at that. He’s jealous of them both for having each other—and for being able to keep each other for as long as Wade has known them.

Hell, he remembers the first he met Spider-man; at that time, he didn’t have a girlfriend and Spider-gal didn’t exist yet. It’s only him who is fighting, having been around for only two years and he is _horribly_ clumsy. Wade remembers him well – anxious and a bit shaky, voice constantly cracking in surprise and his confidence is faker than today.

Back then, when Spider-man is still unused to constant fights, still trying to grow and become better at it, a lot of people end up putting a hit on his head to keep him from getting _better_ and Wade is the number one mercenary – back then – to try and kill him.

 

Yeah, Wade’s not gonna lie. Once upon a time, he has tried to kill his hero. _‘Not again.’_ He vigorously promises himself as he slashes at someone’s knees and kicks them in the stomach, katana falling to the ground so that he can bring out one of his handguns and shoot someone to his left—in the kneecaps, of course!

“Man, do these guys just never leeeearn or _what!?”_ Wade calls out as he disarms another poor guy—almost literally, actually. Whoops, he hopes that Spider-man didn’t see his near slip-up. “You guys are always trying! What’s up with New Yokas?”

“One- don’t immediate a New York accent ever again.” Spider-man calls out. “Duck!” Wade quickly obeys and a body goes flying over his head. _Hot._ “And two—if we didn’t have anyone to fight, we’d be pretty pointless.”

Spider-gal lands next to Spider-man, her feet slamming down hard enough for the ground to crack slightly. Again. Hot. “We’d be outta business and we’d have to retire.” Spider-gal points out, one finger coming up so that she can make her point, and she looks around a bit. “I think that’s all of them?”

“That’s it?” Spider-man suddenly asks, his voice restless, and he fidgets with his hands. “That’s not—that’s not a lot, though. Maybe there’re more hiding around? We should probably have a look and check—“

Wade frowns, _visibly,_ though Spider-gal squares her shoulders and presses Spider-man close to her side. She’s whispering to him and Wade can’t _hear_ what it is, but it seems to calm Spider-man down considerably and he exhales.

Yeah, that jealousy is back. _Hard._ She’s still holding Spider-man close, her head on his, and Wade _hates_ the fact that he has to pretend that he has no clue what is going on with SHIELD and AGMG.

“Ya done nuzzling over there? Are you guys gonna… _get a room?_ Can I join you and just watch you? Because I would love to know how spiders go at it.” He says, and Spider-man groans in pain while Spider-gal just snorts in amusement. “What? Not gonna let me watch? That is just _rude_ and I demand to be included in your sexual exploits.”

“Nah.” Spider-gal says, her voice full of mirth and glowing while Spider-man _continues_ to groan in absolute pain. “Buuuut… we are going to get some Caribbean fooooood.” Spider-gal sings and she’s gently smacked on the side of her arm by Spider-man, and Wade goes to grab his katana from the floor. “I mean, we’ve never _had_ Caribbean food.”

Spider-man hums. “We don’t really know what is or isn’t good.” He admits and Wade struggles _not_ to smile at the embarrassed tone in Spider-man’s voice. Man, he is feeling a lot of emotions, isn’t he? Admiration, pride, jealousy… “I’m sure they make pretty great food, though! Gal and I’ll hopefully will… like it?”

She shrugs and Wade pipes up. “I’ve had Caribbean food before! You kinda can’t help it when you’re travelling around the world, doing your job, being _fucking great_ at it…”

“And not doing it anymore.” Spider-gal points out.

“ _Hopefully_ not for bad people at least.” Spider-man interjects and the Spiders look at each other and Wade wonders what’s going on between the two.

For a small while, Spider-gal is just really silent. She stares at Spider-man and he stares right back at her before Spider-gal finally shrugs and looks back to Wade. “You know the food better than we do, you pick a place we can go to. You do know where we are, right?”

At that, Wade laughs nervously and he can imagine – well, mostly imagine; he doesn’t know what Spider-gal’s face is but he super imposes eyebrows onto her mask – the way she raises her eyebrow as he reaches down for his phone. “Lemme just grab me phone for me google maps here, eh?” he says with the most Canadian accent he can manage, and his heart flutters at the way Spider-gal laughs and Spider-man giggles.

“Ooh, see ‘ere, we gotta just figure oot where we are, then I can find us the riiight area for our Caribbean food munchin’, eh.”

“I think I like your normal accent more.” Spider-man comments absentmindedly and Wade nearly drops his phone in surprise at that. When he looks back at the two, Spider-man and gal are chatting among themselves and not really paying attention to what Spider-man has said and Wade feels awfully pathetic that his heart is beating so rapidly just because of one silly comment.

**[Probably didn’t mean it that seriously too, anyway.]**

**_{I’m gonna take him supes serious, yo! Shut up, whitey!}_ **

**[I hope you die.]**

He shakes his head and with shamefully shaky hands Wade looks up where they are so that he can take them to the best damn restaurant _ever._ His heart is beating rapidly in his chest, Spider-man’s words just echoing in his head over and over again – voice soft and sweet – and Wade wonders what it’ll feel like to have Spider-gal _also_ genuinely compliment him.

Sure, she is always complimenting him but there are times when she’s _clearly_ joking. Times when she isn’t really complimenting Wade himself, mostly gives him passing nods of approval at the way he fights or nonlethally takes out baddies, and he _treasures_ them because that is the closest he feels like he’s going to get from Spider-gal as a true compliment.

And this? Hearing this from Spider-man, something so _innocuous_ and not all that deeply thought about is sending him into a frenzy. **[What if you just misheard him? What if he didn’t even say it? What if you imagined it?]**

Does Wade ever imagine Spider-man complimenting him, he asks himself.

The answer is a loud _no._

[Later, when they are just about to leave the construction site to head off to the restaurant Wade has found, Spider-gal waiting for him to get on her back, he goes over to Spider-man and asks him, “did you really say you like my normal accent?”

For a moment, Spider-man stares at him before he lets out an ‘oh!’ of recognition. “Yeah, I think I did? I mean, I definitely prefer it over your stereotypical Canadian. Aren’t you an actual Canadian, true north strong and free and all that? Why is your stereotypical accent so bad?”

He feels a bit of victory at knowing that Spider-man actually does like his voice.]

* * *

“Who knew that my baby boy loved shrimps?” Wade coos at Spider-man as he groans, his own hands curling under his chin and a dreamy sigh escapes his lips at the sight of his baby boy stuffed and looking relaxed. He can feel his glare as Spider-man looks his way and Spider-gal just snickers. “Look at _you!_ Your tummy’s like a giant balloon!” Well, not really, but it is looking slightly stuffed. “Can I touch it?”

Immediately, Spider-man shoves at his face and frowns. “No, don’t touch it.” Spider-man grumbles, though Spider-gal looks over at Wade and ever so gently puts her hands on their favourite Spider’s tum. “You don’t touch it either!” Spider-man shoves at Spider-gal then, one hand on each of their faces, and he grumbles.

“You’re both awful.” He says after a while and manages to shove them away enough for them to take their hands off of him, but Wade can’t help but feel weirdly giddy at Spider-man’s irritation.

“Maybe you shouldn’t’ve eaten so much, huh?” Spider-gal points out. “Seriously, you were kinhda a glutton there, babe. You sure you’re up for swinging away? I think you’d puke if you do.”

Now that Wade thinks about it, Spider-gal definitely has a point. “She’s right.” He adds. “You’d probably puke in your mask—and as someone who has done that before, you really do not want to puke in your own mask, truuust me.”

“Ew, tiger.” Spider-man replies and he sticks his tongue out at him before scrunching his nose up. “No, seriously, _ew._ I did _not_ need to imagine that. Eurgh… I think I wanna puke.”

“Puke over the edge! Puke over the edge! Maybe you’ll hit someone with it like pigeon poop!”

“Oh my _gosh **what is wrong with you?**_ ” Spider-man cries out, and Spider-gal is just laughing in what seems to be a mixture of disbelief and absolute surprised mirth, her hands coming up to cover her mouth and she coughs and chokes on her own saliva. “No! I am not going to puke over the roof! I am not going to puke _at all! **What is wrong with you!?**_ ”

Wade whines, trying not to laugh at Spider-man’s response himself. “Come oooooon baby _boy!_ You’ve been so tense for _days,_ and now you’re all stuffed and everyone’s being an ass to you two again—seriously, when will that Jameson fuck ever leave you alone? But you’ve been shat on lately, why not orally shit on them?”

“No! I am not going to—noooo? Nooooooo!” Spider-man says with clear horror, his voice rising in volume and he balls his hands up as though ready to punch Wade. “Noooo!?!?! What is wrong—I don’t even have anything to say! I am not going to do that! I really rather be stressed out instead of _thinking of vomiting on random people!”_

Wade pauses. “Stressed out?” he asks. “Isn’t your _boss_ giving you some time off, or are you both getting on working you to the bone?”

“ _What_?”

“Well?” Wade hisses out, his eyes narrowing. “Is your boss giving you a break or nah? Do I have to have a talk with him, or are you gonna get him to actually take _care_ of you?”

Spider-gal is the one that stands up suddenly, her entire body on edge and she’s staring at him. She tugs her mask down, obscuring every part of her face now and Wade looks up at her with surprise. “Don’t you **dare** go to Parker.” Spider-gal says coldly, and huh! Wade feels oddly colder now. Why is that?

**_{I wonder if Spider-gal’s insides is as cold as her outsides…}_ **

**[It is. Because she’s alive.]**

**_{… how do you think she’ll feel if—}_ **

**[Don’t finish that or I swear to god.]**

“Sweetheart,” Wade says slowly while he stands up. “I’m not gonna do anything to him, promise! See, I even have an app and everything from the Avengers and it tells meee I gotta be nice to theeeee!” he snaps his fingers and gives Spider-gal a double thumbs up. “I’ll just… scare him a little, you know? So that he gives you two a break—“

“We can’t _have_ breaks.” Spider-gal says. “We’re heroes! We have to keep fighting, we have to keep saving everyone! Us taking a break does not depend on Peter Parker!”

“Guys—“ Spider-man rises up between Wade and her, his hands on their chest and when did he lean close to Spider-gal? She smells like coconuts. “Can we _not_ fight right now? We just ate—and this isn’t anything worth arguing about—“

Spider-gal’s head whips over to Spider-man, her hand rising up and then freezing as she stares at him. However, she manages to shake out of it almost immediately. “He just threatened to—to do so _something_ to Peter Parker!”

“You don’t even know what it is!” He snaps back at her, and something hangs heavy in Wade’s chest. Shit, he didn’t mean to do _this._ “Deadpool won’t do anything—“

“How are you—how are you so sure!? Let’s ask the man himself—hey, Deadpool! Are you going to kill Peter Parker?”

“Gal—!”

“Are you going to kill Peter Parker!?”

“No!” Wade snaps back. “I can’t, anyway! It’s not like you’d let me! What makes you think I’d even _tell_ you!?”

When Spider-gal is about to punch Wade, Spider-man reacts. He turns to face her and grabs her fist and reaches up to grab the other one just as it comes flying towards him. His hands clench around hers, both of them straining at one another and they spin around, changing their positions so that Spider-man’s hidden away by Spider-gal ever so slightly. “Weren’t you even _listening_ to him?” Spider-gal hisses, but Spider-man just shrugs kind of pathetically. “He just openly _threatened to kill our boss!_ ”

“And he also said he wasn’t going to.” Spider-man argues, and Wade’s heart flutters and his stomach lurches. Without thinking, he quickly checks on his morality app—it’s still on lawful good, and Wade swallows the lump forming in his throat. Why doesn’t he feel good about the fact that Spider-man is trying to defend him? “If he wanted to kill Parker, then he’d have done it already.”

**[… kid’s too naïve.]**

**_{Really naïve.}_ **

“What makes you think he isn’t lying?” Owch. That just… why is Wade just standing aside and letting Spider-gal talk about him that way?

With a frown and an unintentional growl – even that surprises Wade – he steps forward and Spider-gal tries to jerk away and punch him. Thankfully, Spider-man’s doing pretty great in tugging her back towards him and keeping her from attacking despite his shaky arms and the fact that he’s _clearly_ struggling with someone of his own strength.

Possibly stronger. He has never asked, actually… “You know, I _really_ don’t like it when people are dragging my name through the dirt _right in front of me._ ”

“I’m being _honest!”_ she snaps back and Wade glares at her, hands twitching and instincts screaming at him to fight her. “When you’re in danger—you take _everything_ into account.”

“You aren’t in danger!”  Spider-man says and he pushes her away. “We aren’t in danger! Peter Parker isn’t in danger! We are _not_ staying here, we’re going back home and we’re going to talk about this—“

There are several reasons as to why some people are _extremely_ scared of Spider-gal, and this is one of them as she stays silent, body trembling with the need to fight and he can practically hear the way her teeth grind against each other. “Fine.” She turns around to face Wade then and she points at him. “ _I literally just apologised to you.”_ She says, and Wade is almost wondering if her anger is actually directed at _him_ or at herself. “Don’t—stop making me lose my temper! I’m—fucking—“

“She’s sorry again, is what she’s trying to say.” Spider-man pets at her arms and tries to get her to turn around and leave, but she resists for a moment and Wade holds her gaze as best he can. “Deadpool, my boss is being understanding to us, but we’re doing this to ourselves. Our stress has nothing to do with Parker—“

It probably has to do with AGMG, Wade bets.

“—so please, don’t do anything rash, okay? We’re going to be leaving now, so don’t make us come back. You _do_ know what I mean, right?”

 

That hurts.

But he gets it.

 

“Yeah, I do.” Wade murmurs, before he brightens up almost immediately. “Remember to call, baby boy and baby girl—I’m going to miss your voices the moment you leave! I _need_ your melodic tunes near my ear and in my heart, in my heeeead—“

“You don’t have our number.”

“Yet!”

“ _Ever._ ”

And with that, the conversation ends as Spider-man turns around and presents his back to Wade. He blinks, taken aback slightly at the utter rudeness of the way Spider-man just _leaves_ and even Spider-gal seems a bit surprised. “What—“ Wade begins, but he stops himself before he can go any further and his mouth audibly snaps shut.

When he looks at Spider-man closer, he realises that he’s swaying slightly. Maybe he’s feeling nauseous? He exhales through his nose and bile rises up to his mouth and Wade swallows it down, teeth digging into his own tongue and he wonders if he can kill himself before the Spider-duo notice.

He’s able to talk himself out of just as the two leave, and Wade wonders why he just keeps letting his mouth run off on its own.

**[Because Peter Parker’s an asshole.]**

**_{He helped Doc Ock! It’s all his fault!}_ **

**[And if our baby boy and baby girl can’t see that, we just gotta do this on our own.]**

As much as Wade hates to agree with his boxes – really, he does! – White does have a point. So does Yellow, surprisingly, and he never has a point. **_{Hey!}_** This is all Peter Parker’s fault. If it isn’t for him, then he bets—he absolutely _bets_ —that Doc Ock would have _never_ been able to steal Spider-man’s body.

No matter what the Spider-duo say, Wade is sure that they just can’t see the man for what he is. They’re too good that way.

Too good for their own good, even! Too good for their own. Damn. Good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uni's great, by the way. I legit love uni.


	16. Skull collecting makes Money, surprisingly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teeny tiny bit of a filler before I have to go to sleep in a few hours or so! I just really wanted an excuse to have Wade and Shiklah interact, really.
> 
>  **important edit:** I fixed some continuity errors in this chapter and some dialogue has been changed.

“I feel like I should feel _guilty_ for still having sex with my ex-wife.” Wade says as he looks over to Shiklah, who is busy inspecting a new skull she has gotten and he just stares at the… weird… five eye-socketed thing in her hands. “Why do you like skulls so much?” he asks and Shiklah doesn’t really pay any attention to him as she continues to inspect the skull over.

She traces over the horns and runs her fingers over the grooves of the skull before she frowns and throws the skull at the wall. To Wade’s surprise, it doesn’t crack or anything—it’s absolutely fine. “What—“

“That? Was a fake Klikilorian skull. Their actual skulls are horribly fragile and shatter into pieces easily, and this one was too firm and hard. Anyway, what was your question? What did you say?” Shiklah asks, her back against the headboard, and her posture is royally relaxed. “Something about guilt over sleeping with me?”

He shakes his head and decides to just sink completely into the bed, yellow eyes staring up at the mangled ceiling of their shared flat. “Nah, don’t’cha worry your pretty as hell head about it.”

“Well, did you ask me about my skulls? I’m in the mood to talk about my skulls.” Shiklah says conversationally, her fingers interlacing and she stretches her arms and Wade lets out a ‘huh’ at the thousands of cracks her body lets out. “You should come with me to the underworld later so that we can look for a skull seller.”

He raises one hairless eyebrow at her. “Is this… is this common? Skull collecting I mean, because that’s weird. Do you guys never run out of skulls? At all? How the fuck do you even get them? I’m really trying to figure that out. And I kinda can’t.”

She smirks at him, her hands resting on her elbows and Shiklah tilts her head back. “Oh humans, you are so horribly naïve.  The quantity of corpses can be duplicated through magic in the underworld, though some of them are far too lazy and make imitations or the sort. You’d be surprised at what we collect, I suppose; skulls, specific organs… I know of a good few people who collect cell samples for some reason. They steal from hospitals and research centres from both the underworld and the upperworld.”

He squints at her and she just continues grinning at him, amusement glimmering in her eyes and Wade gets the urge to pinch her nose. So he does.

Shiklah slaps him hard enough to nearly snap his neck and Wade’s eyes water. “Ohh that’ll make your day right there.” Wade says with the most exaggerated southern accent he can master and Shiklah laughs loudly at that. He grabs at his head and twists it so that it’s back to its normal position, and Shiklah is absolutely relaxed as she reaches over for one of the Deadpool comics (he is super proud of most of them) to read. “That’s why I loved ya right there, hon, absolutelee.”

“Your accent makes me miss Yemen.” Shiklah comments. “Not that you sound _anything_ like the people of Yemen, I just miss Yemen suddenly… and Sudan.”

“… did they exist thousands of years ago?” Wade asks, blinking slowly, his voice a tad rough from nearly snapping his neck and all. “I don’t know jack shit about my history and geography.”

She lowers the comic for a bit, blinks slowly, looks around and looks for one of her demons who just shrug at her comically [heh] and then Shiklah shrugs as well. “I don’t remember nor know either.” Shiklah admits. “But I did visit them recently while you were busy with your Spiders. I’m very surprised you haven’t squashed them yet.”

The embarrassed laughter that bubbles out of Wade is something he can’t even hold back, no matter how much he really wants to, and Shiklah’s eyes pierce him with their intense, _intense_ gaze at that. Her eyes narrow. “Yellow rocket?” Shiklah asks and Wade shakes his head, which prompts her to relax a little. Still absolutely tense, though, and Wade thinks he really rather be eating her out right now.

**_{Emotions tiiiiime!}_ **

“Well then.” She closes the comic after putting a bookmark (it’s a ‘The Hobbit’ bookmark, and Wade is pretty sure that is his bookmark—is she reading a trade?) in the pages and Shiklah turns to face him. “Alright then, Wade. I suppose I have to play the… trope of the supportive best friend, as you’d put it.”

“Have you been surfing TVtropes again?”

“Yes.” Shiklah’s expression is unbelievably stony as she says that. “Now then, is there something you’d like to tell me or can I go through my comic binge yet? I still have a few very inaccurate Captain America comics to read through…”

Wade’s brow furrows. “Are you… stealing my comics?”

“Yes. Stop dodging the subject.”

An irritable sigh slips out of him. “Okay, okay _fine._ You’re lucky I’m absolutely terrified of your inhuman strength!”

“And turned on.” Shiklah adds.

“Not the time.” A toothy grin spreads on her lips. “I’m… _stuck_ on what to do with them both. Have you ever noticed how people use everyone else as one-dimensional supports to further the protagonists’ story? Like, that _always_ happens, especially in the Spider-man movies—poor Aunt… something or other… wait, shouldn’t the Spider-man movies tell me who Spider-man is?”

Shiklah’s brow furrows and she looks like she’s stuck looking absolutely bewildered or scowling and Wade slowly looks down at his own hands. “Did you even comprehend what you just said?” Shiklah asks, her words leaving her slowly as though _she’s_ attempting to figure what she, herself, just said. “Because I really, really do not.”

He opens his mouth, waiting for an explanation to tumble out, but nothing comes to mind and he shrugs pathetically. “I’uhno.” He sounds awfully meek and Shiklah’s glare just makes him wish that their – or rather, Shiklah’s – bed will eat him already. “Don’t kill me! I’m getting to my point, I’m getting to my point!”

Her growl causes him to speed up his talking, his mouth moving faster than he can really realise. “So, I keep pissing Spider-gal off and I really don’t mean to- but I keep flipping her switch and I have no clue how I do it, but she seems super protective of Peter Parker—you know, the scumbag that helped Doc Ock destroy Spider-man’s life? Or, nearly destroy it anyway. But, as I was saying; I keep pissing Spider-gal off cause she’s super protective of Peter Parker; which is weird to me because she ain’t his bodyguard, yet Spider-man is a-okay with me threatening to kill the guy?

“Okay, he’s _not_ okay with murder, he’s never okay with murder—but I’m pretty sure he killed a few guys? He did kill a few guys, right?” Shiklah stares at him blankly. “Okay, so you don’t know and I can’t remember. Ah, well, when the author feels like developing Peter Parker’s background further, we’ll know, eh? But as I was saying, Spidey is super okay with me—“

“Slow down.” Shiklah says. “Get. To. The. Point.”

“Spider-man seems to only get annoyed when I insult Peter Parker, and Spider-gal gets super mad at me whenever I insinuate I’m gonna kill the guy!”

When he’s done talking and he goes quiet, Shiklah nods and starts to tap her fingers on her arms. “Are you going to kill Peter Parker?” is the only thing she asks at the end of it all, and Wade wonders whether or not he should feel grateful over the lack of her drilling. He really has no clue.

“… yes. Yes, I am.”

“Alright then. _Why_ are you going to kill Peter Parker?”

With that, Wade frowns and looks away. “I’m absolu-fucking-lutely positive that he’s experimenting on people and mutants, and trying to do the same thing Weapon X did but to a lesser extent. For now? I only got my gut and my intuition and my intuition tells me that I gotta--“

“Is it SHIELD that gave you this idea?” Shiklah interrupts. When Wade lets out the smallest ‘no’ **[Don’t we have a backbone? No, no we don’t apparently]** that she has ever heard this week, her eyebrows shoot up. “I thought you didn’t want to kill people not ordered to be killed by SHIELD anymore?”

“This is… this is different.” Wade says. “SHIELD hires me to kill organisation members. People who are absolutely, one-hundred percent confirmed dogshit. Peter Parker? SHIELD’s got nothing on him—I know, I checked. He’s as clean as pure snow.”

“Pure snow used to be a commodity years ago… then we actually found a way to bring snow over without having it melt or get dirty.” What the hell does that have to do with anything. Wade doesn’t say it out loud, definitely, but he does give her a look that lets her know he has no clue what that has to do with a single thing they are talking about. “Nostalgia. And are you sure there is absolutely no chance that you're wrong? That maybe you're projecting?”

Wade frowns. He sits up proper finally, stretches because wow, his body feels a tad numb—maybe he should ask Shiklah to calm down next time? Whatever. “I wanna say yes… but honestly, I have no damn clue now that you put it THAT way. Problem is, I have _no idea_ how to get close to Parker to even _see_ if he’s an ass or nah. I _know_ he’s evil, they always are—“

“And what if he’s like Tony Stark?”

 

Wade decides to very pointedly ignore what Shiklah has said. “—but I don’t got the _proof_ for it yet. What if he’s just a stuck-up dickweed with nothing in his balls, and I’m just super paranoid? What if he saw an opportunity with Doc Ock, realised he don’ fucked it, and decided to manipulate the Spideys and isn’t experimenting at all?”

“Then we have established so far that you do _not_ have evidence. What are you going to do, then? And what does this have to do at all with your Spiders?” Shiklah shrugs her shoulders as she says that, her body reclining against the headboard and her gaze isn’t focused on Wade anymore. “So far, I’m not entirely sure what your problem is.”

He pets at his own head then, carefully running his fingers over his own scars, and groans. “My problem _are_ the Spiders. How’m I gonna get close to Patton Parnell—“

“Who?”

“Peter Parker. Ehhh, don’t worry about the other name, just a reference that some dedicated few folk will get. Anyway. _How_ am I gonna get close if the Spiders are possibly constantly in hiding waiting for someone to attack him, huh?”

“So… you’re telling me their… spider sense are getting in the way?”

When she says that, something in Wade’s mind clicks. “Holy _fuck,_ Shikkie? You’re a genius.” He gasps out, straightens up suddenly, and he places his hands on his cheeks as carefully as he can; his eyes are wide with surprise and realisation. “Why the hell didn’t I realise this? Holy fuck. _Holy fucking shit._ Shik, I need our BAMF cat for later.”

Shiklah opens her mouth, closes it, frowns, peers at him and then lets free a defeated sigh. “I really don’t know what goes on through your head most times. Why do you need our ‘BAMF’ cat? What do you have in mind?”

“The best absolute damn thing in the _world!_ I can’t believe I didn’t think of—holy shit, who knew talking was so helpful!?”

**_{Whenever we appear, you always yell at us to go away!}_ **

“Shut the fuck up! Anyway… Shiklah, _babe,_ I have a plan, and I am going to _make sure_ that my Spiders never know that Peter Parker is in actual deep shit. All I need… is restraint, and a ton of damn charm to be able to make this work! You and I both know I absolutely have the charisma to win my babes over, right? Right! To work I go!”

The frown on her face doesn’t go away, but Wade is too busy jumping out of the bed so that he can go slip his thongs and suit on, suddenly energised when his new plan comes to fruition in his mind. If all goes well that ends well, he’ll either have bagged some fucked up CEO’s head in the bag, or he’ll listen to the Spiders and see what they have to say about Peter Parker and spare him maybe!

 

But don’t tell the Spiders, readers. Wouldn’t want them to get upset and all, now, would we?

* * *

“Ah!” Peter cries out, his tablet nearly falling to the floor and he fumbles in his attempt to keep the very expensive tablet from breaking – all his documents and notes are on that! He can’t afford to lose it just yet, even with cloud service and all – and he sighs in relief. He frowns soon enough, wondering why he feels an abrupt chill going down his spine once more.

He feels oddly cold, as though something bad is going to happen, and he looks over to where Gwen is currently busy with her own work, earbuds in and glasses on and she’s completely lost to Peter. She doesn’t even hear him gasp or witness his fumble, so he sighs in relief and looks back to the tablet in his hands.

Ah, dang it; in his attempt to keep the tablet from falling, he lost his place. He exhales heavily and taps through the device until he can find the specific document that he has been editing, trying to find the fifth version of it and he curses himself for not naming these things properly.

C’mon, Parker, didn’t you learn better in university? This is the kind of stuff you have been trying _not_ to do since university. Rubbing at his face and trembling once more as another chill runs through him, he sets his tablet aside and moves past Gwen and finally catches her attention. “What’s wrong?” she asks, quickly removing her earbuds so that she can look at him.

“I’m getting tea.” Peter says. “You want some?”

“Nah. Could do with some coffee, though?”

“Sure.” His answer is a bit distracted, but Gwen doesn’t comment on it as she puts her earbuds back in and goes to continue her work. He watches her reach for her phone before Peter finally goes to make their tea and coffee, mind a bit distracted.

Why does he feel like something is going to go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very off topic, but I used to have the demo of [this game](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=du8JepLM-lI) and I would play it obsessively and always be upset because I didn't have the full game. I remember being really obsessed with finding videos about this game when I first discovered youtube; I don't know what happened to just make me suddenly forget about this game. I was honestly looking for an awful soundtrack to share and stumbled on this again, instead. This actually makes me want to watch Ghost in the Shell...


	17. Dictionary, what is love? Don't hurt me,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a lot of feelings about what peter said to wade about his looks and all of them are _**"what the fuck is wrong with you, you're a fucking scientist who has at least taken biology in university, what the fuck is wrong with you. get this ableist garbage out of my face"**_
> 
> as a science major, i'm horribly insulted.

Two weeks. Really, it’s been two weeks since Wade has actually _seen_ either of the Spider-duo and he is definitely going to wholly blame this on himself. He keeps thinking about the last time he has seen the two of them, about how they ended up arguing with each other because of him – which, really, it’s not even the _fun_ arguing the two do sometimes, when Gal flirts with him and Spidey is exasperated – and a part of him stupidly thinks that _maybe_ he shouldn’t go back to the two.

**_{Isn’t that kinda defeating the whole point of this exercise? How are we gonna make Spidey and Gal like us equally if we kinda stay in the back!?}_ **

**[Things are difficult.]**

**_{… That’s all you’re gonna say?}_ **

**[Yep.]**

He really hates it when the unfortunate voices have a point in his head. He isn’t entirely sure what that entirely means, but the voices do have a point. Him staying behind and not actually confronting those two _is_ defeating the point of befriending them and trying to learn more about Peter Parker—

A part of him goes abruptly cold at the thought of using the Spiders to get closer to Peter Parker, hoping to figure out more about the man, and he is about to say something to Shiklah – who is busy doing… yoga? Wade isn’t entirely sure – when he catches sight of a notification on his laptop.

He frowns, his eyes narrowing when he notices that it’s actually someone asking him to do a hit.

 

And it’s not SHIELD.

Instantly, every part of Wade is on attention. He can _see_ Peter Parker’s name in it and every part of him is screaming to take it, to see what it has to say, because he _needs_ to know but the rational part of him, the part that tells him _you’re not that kind of person any more,_ reminds him that he is supposed to be a hero now.

But still, he doesn’t get rid of the deal that he has been spent; maybe there is something in there, maybe there isn’t. He isn’t going to take the hit, but… but that doesn’t mean he’s going to get rid of it just yet.

[He wants to say that if Shiklah knows that he’s hiding that in his laptop that she’ll talk some sense into him- but really, what she’ll tell him is ‘ooohhh, dirt on Parker? You should look at it’ because she’s the worst influence in the world.]

 

Besides, he doesn’t know how to explain to Shiklah that he’s already doing everything he can to figure out what’s going on in Parker’s company. With their little BAMF cat demon and with him having stolen the image inducer from SHIELD (Natasha actually smuggles it to him, basically, and she tells him not to tell _anyone_ because even she is aware that her being found out will result in life termination), it’s pitifully easy to pretend to be a scientist.

Doesn’t even matter if no one recognises him as a worker there. Wade Wilson is a mercenary—he knows himself very well. He knows stealth _far more_ than people think he does; he is used to falling into eerie silence, the boxes following along because even they know the importance of concentration and focus when they need to.

Breaking into Parker industries is no different to breaking into Stark industries, years and years ago, and killing more than two dozen people. No. It’s no different—it’s almost terrifyingly _easy_ to slip back into his old habits, to slip into the detached old persona of _Deadpool,_ merciless mercenary with the mouth, and to terrify people into _never_ speaking.

It’s terrifyingly easily. What a good thing he has the image inducer, or he’s sure that the Spider-duo will be doing more than just investigating every worker at Parker industries.

And yet, with all his work, he still brings up absolutely _diddly squat_ about Peter Parker, about any experiments he has, whether or not he’s actually _fucking experimenting_ and what if he’s—

**[Have you considered that maybe Parker has a hidden base somewhere? That maybe he’s hiding the fact that he’s experimenting on people? It would cause a scandal if someone unauthorised found out…]**

… seems like Deadpool’s work isn’t done yet. Shame, really.

 

 

 

Time passes still without him really meeting up with the Spiders, but it’s not his fault this time. Seriously! It’s not! The last time he actually tries to talk to the Spiders, having finally swallowed down the guilt of his new pastime, Spider-man ends up punching him because he mistook Wade for an enemy – [“Oh shoot! Deadpool, I’m sorry! My instincts went off and I thought you were one of my villains.”] – and Spider-gal swoops in to tell him that their flight is ready.

So, really, the Spiders end up going to some sort of island for… whatever reason [it’s not even that far away—it’s just two hours away via air] and Spider-man and Spider-gal are _not_ available for him to talk to.

Which only further ruins his weak will to _not_ look into that email. Seriously, what if it’s actually something he can use for this? It’s been _two weeks_ and then some, and he hasn’t talked to the Spiders and really, Wade is getting fucking antsy as hell not doing anything—

Well, okay, he’s not _not_ doing anything; he’s always busy! Being an honorary Avenger and being SHIELD’s little murderous lapdog and all. He just hasn’t seen Spider-man and Spider-gal in a while—fuck, he hasn’t even gotten the damn chance to make it up to Spider-gal for their dumb little argument the last time.

What kind of way is that? Ending a conversation on them arguing and then the Spiders fighting—the inseparable, perfect [maybe not perfect; no one’s perfect right? But Spider-man is forgiving, forgiving to a damn fault, and that’s damn near perfect to Wade] superhero duo having a severe argument over him.

Him, the human waste. Him, the living, walking piece of shit. People treat his name like a swear word; that’s how awful he is. So really, of all the people to make them have an actual debate over this—

**[Why are you beating yourself up over this?]**

**_{Sometimes, arguments just happen.}_ **

**[Hopefully not always. That just ain’t healthy.]**

**_{Yeah! Toughen up, big guy! Go and kick some ass until our booties come back. I don’t like it here when you’re being a shit to yourself!}_ **

**[Nothing even happens here, you doofus.]**

**_{Fuck you!}_ **

**[Thanks.]**

‘ _What is it with you two and being helpful today?’_ Wade thinks spitefully, but neither of the voices respond and his head is quiet as quiet can be—or, well, Wade can here Yellow imagining his furiously masturbating and that results in White arguing with Yellow and—

Really, his headspace is a mess of things that he doesn’t remember, doesn’t want to remember, hates that he remembers, and hates that they exist. There are a lot of things wrong in his head, and this is exactly one of them.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” Wade swears and Shiklah pauses in her… yoga… pose. Seriously, she has the whole exorcist head thing going on and her legs are in a pretzel held together by her arms. What is she doing? “Babe, aren’t you uncomfortable? Looking at you is making me super uncomfortable—I feel my joints ache, and immediately stop aching because healing factor is a bitch that way.”

She raises an eyebrow at him and in the blink of an eye rights herself into a normal position. He gapes. “I’ve a meeting soon,” Shiklah says, “whatever it is that’s bothering you, I hope it goes away. Beers in the fridge, I left some Alcrusian wine in the freezer- don’t drink that unless you want to taste maggots.” Is it bad that Wade is curious enough to try that? “Anyway, have a good day sugar plump—momma’s got work to do.”

He can’t help the dreamy sigh that escapes him as Shiklah snaps her fingers and enters her formal attire—bones and souls swirling all around and all— and she wipes her hands against each other. She gives him a goodbye finger-wriggles before she disappears in a puff of purple smoke. “Damn, we missed out with her.”

**[You deserve to have someone you love—]**

**_{_ — _and not someone you’re sexually interested in!}_**

_‘Seriously, the hell is going on with you two!?’_

Once more, he doesn’t get an answer. God damn boxes in his head.

* * *

“We are _never_ going to that island, **_ever again,_** for a holiday! Ever!” Gwen cries out as she removes the helmet that Dr. Strange has them wear, giving it back near immediately and the good doctor looks at her sympathetically. “That was the—I am going to have _nightmares_ for the rest of my life! What the hell did we even face!?”

“Cthuvian horrors.” Dr. Strange murmurs absentmindedly as he helps Peter out of the fleshy, teeth-covered tunnel. “Not _real_ ones, of course, but some magician’s recreation of them in the real world. We are very fortunate that they were only confined to this island.”

Peter shudders as he crawls out finally, his own hands scrambling at his own helmet as well and he throws it away only for Dr. Strange to use his magic to grab it and float it back to his Mary Poppins bag. “I feel sick.” Peter admits, his stomach churning and gurgling loudly and Gwen rubs his back soothingly. “I do not— _do not_ ever, **ever** want to do that again. Holy cow.”

They both get a pat on the back from Dr. Strange, the sympathy and pity clear on his face as he rubs circles onto their backs. “I’m sorry for calling you two in last moment, but the Avengers weren’t responding and I was getting desperate.”

“No—no problem. Can you, uh, _can you_ maybe… get rid of the memories?” Gwen says with a flinch, another shudder going through her as she hears the whispers of the voices deep underneath—a cloying thing, reminding her of her insignificant and infinitesimal addition to the vast, endless universe full of Gods and Beings that want to devour her atomic existence.

Similarly, Peter gasps as he hears the claws of monsters grip at the back of his head even though he knows it’s just _residue_ of what they have gone through. “ _Please?_ ” Peter asks, trembling as an abrupt chill runs through his spine.

“Of course.” Dr. Strange says, his hands rising up and glowing with a magenta hue. “The powers that listen to me, that aide and assist- give unto us, and let the pulsing grip of horror be eased from their minds.” He says it all as though a quiet prayer, and Peter definitely doesn’t doubt that that is what it is. A prayer, ever so quiet, and the moment it is uttered all the horrors are gone and his soul is lighter for it.

Gwen shudders as well and lets free a sigh, her shoulders slumping and all feelings of insignificance fade as though they never are there in the first place. “Thank you.” She says, quietly, and Dr. Strange gives her a charming smile before he walks forward, cloak bellowing before him and Gwen considers having Peter add cloaks to their next outfits.

“We should leave soon—is the aircraft that your boss let us borrow still here?” Not expecting an answer from either Spiders, he closes his eyes and brings his hands up to his head before his eyes slowly slide open and he nods. “It’s still here—let’s go before the island fades away to nonexistence.”

 _‘Well,’_ Gwen thinks, clearly amused despite no one being able to see and realise it, _‘you don’t hafta tell us twice.’_ She looks back to the gnarled and twisted forests that they are leaving behind—mangled with the dark and looking as though it has swallowed the darkness itself – and she practically drags Dr. Strange and Peter away in her hurry to get outta here.

 

 

The moment they leave the island, it just… disappears. Not even fade away or anything, it just pops out of existence and it has to be the most baffling thing Peter has ever seen. He doesn’t comment on it that much, because he’s worrying about Gwen who seems so harrowed by this experience. Well, he can’t remember what they went through anymore so Gwen will probably forget eventually too, but still.

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel bad about it; people severely underestimate how horrifying Cthuvian monstrosities are, especially when he has just realised that they are kind of like the dinosaurs. Extinct, the Gods dead and unwanted because they are just as infinitesimal as humans are to an even _higher_ being, and Peter tries not to think about what that means.

He really, _really_ doesn’t want to have some sort of crisis not now. “I miss Deadpool.” Peter says suddenly, drawing the surprise of Gwen and luckily not Dr. Strange—the man has fallen asleep—and the pilot, of course, doesn’t say anything. “Don’t—don’t you miss him? After that entire ordeal, I kind of have a newfound appreciation for his brand of humour.”

Gwen nods her head, leans back against her chair, and lets her hands curl on her lap. “I need his humour right now.” she admits. “I just… didn’t expect you to say that? It’s… you know, _you._ Clean boy Spider-man, and all that.”

“I know.” He sighs and he pulls his hood back-  not his mask, Dr. Strange can wake up at any moment – and groans. “Just—I really, _really_ prefer to listen to Deadpool’s brand of humour instead of sitting here, wondering whether or not my life has meaning after all that. I also… kind of feel bad.”

“Feel—feel bad? What do you feel bad about?”

He sighs. “I’ve been feeling guilty as heck over the way we left the last time.” Peter says, his voice soft and small. “S’not like I said _goodbye_ to him.”

“It’s been, like, what? _Th_ _ree weeks.”_  Gwen stresses, her arms draping over her knees and she leans forward. “Why are you feeling guilty now?”

Peter shifts in place, his own hands folding on his lap and he straightens up slightly. “I started thinking about it when he came to talk to us again three days ago.” He looks over to Dr. Strange, taking note of how tired the man must be and he is grateful that he at least has made the chairs comfortable enough to sleep in. “He seemed kinda heartbroken when we didn’t get to talk.”

He pauses.

 

“Also I kind of punched him and broke his jaw.”

“Oh.” Gwen says. “Right. Kinda forgot about that. I’m sure he’s used to it-“

“ _Gal—“_

“Hey! I mean it in the same way you and I are used to broken spines! Why _did_ you punch him, anyway?” she crosses her arms after a while. “Were you expecting an ambush? What? Did he piss you off? I only got there near the end.”

Peter shifts a little bit, gazing falling towards one of the windows and he takes in the clear blue sky and the clouds outside before looking back to Gwen. “He landed behind me, right? It just… set my spider-senses off. I thought he was going to attack, though… m'kinda not really sure why? I mean, it only reacts to _danger._ All Deadpool did was just… land behind me.”

“ _Wow._ I mean, fair! Fair; maybe Deadpool’s just… giving off aggressive pheromones or something that’s triggering your poor little instincts.” Gwen says dryly, and Peter smacks her elbow. “Okay, okay, to be serious a moment… I’uhno? Maybe not seeing him for so long might’ve set you off? You’ve been kinda… _hectic_ after learning about the repeated break-ins too…”

He huffs and rolls his hidden eyes. “I am _not_ being hectic…” Peter grumbles, though it’s not like Gwen’s wrong. Dang it. “I just… I dunno. My spider-sense was just going _crazy,_ Gwaaal.” He flinches at how _wrong_ her name sounds and he quickly looks over to the gently snoring Dr. Strange before he looks back at Gwen. “I’ve _never_ felt such crazy danger just from Deadpool being around.”

 

Peter can practically _see_ her frown through her mask. “Spider-man.” She says, her tone reminding him of the stern voice of a mother he doesn’t remember having for long. “That’s not really reassuring.”

He shrugs. “Maybe he was just super aggro after a SHIELD mission or something? Have the Avengers been doing anything lately? Maybe something that’d include D.P too? I don’t really pay attention to that group that much.

Gwen brings her phone out very quickly, humming and she nods. “Yeah, some sort of attack in Virginia—“

“Virginia?”

“Virginia.” Gwen confirms. “Kinda outta the _norm_ but s’nice. S’nice to have variety in villains, or something. Don’t’cha think so? Villains really need to keep it fresh, don’t’cha agree?”

“They’ve been getting _pretty stale_ lately; I liked them before they were all cool and mainstream.”

“Spoken like a true hipster.” Gwen nods sagely and he punches her arm. “Ow! What was that for?” Peter shrugs and leans back against his seat, and they all jolt when the plane finally begins to land.

 

Well, if Peter isn’t going to lose his lunch before then he is definitely going to lose them now.

* * *

It has to be their luck, really, that the first person that the Spider-man runs into after their return from the island of nightmares has to be _Deadpool._ Or, rather, he doesn’t really run into him as much as he runs into him trying to stop a robbery and deal with a hostage situation and Peter uses it as a chance to crawl into the bank unseen.

Which is impressive, really. Shouldn’t people see the black in daylight? But then again, to be fair, Deadpool is being obnoxiously loud—

 

“ ** _C’MON YA FUCKERS!_** I am two-hundred and thirty-five pounds of god damn Canadian muscle and I can take all you chickens on! Just _release the hostages already, holy shit, this is not doing me any favours with the Avengers._ Don’t you want me to join the Avengers?” One of the robbers specifically shoots _only_ at Deadpool and hits him in the shoulder, which results in a high-pitched shriek. “You ruined my _suit!_ I literally just fixed this suit! Fucking assholes don’t want me to be part of the Avengers!”

 

So, thankfully, the loudness is giving Peter all the distraction he needs just in time to slam down onto one of the robbers’ near the hostages. The moment he goes down, everyone turns to see who it is and Peter hastily gathers up two of the hostages when he catches sight of something being dropped near them.

Just as he clumsily webs away the screaming and panicking hostages, a loud flash goes off and Peter’s ears are _ringing,_ but at least it’s blocking out the shrieking that the two are letting escape their lips. When he drops them off, the ringing has finally stopped and the two that he has been carrying have luckily, somehow, knocked themselves out.

 _‘Fine by me.’_ Peter thinks and he turns around in the squat he is in to see what’s going on, and it finally hits him that gunfire is going on behind and that the rest of the hostages have escaped amidst the confusion. Well, that’s one less thing to worry about. The hail of gunfire, however, is another thing entirely.

Squatting still, Peter tries to keep track of all of the bullets flying around – Deadpool is still yelling something about _Avengers business_ and _you’ve never dealt with SHIELD? Really? Dumbasses! You don’t fight SHIELD_ – and he shoots a web out to the one that is trying to get away.

He yanks him back during a very, very tiny moment of pause, keeping him safe from being shot up and the man flies towards him, horror and surprise clear on his face and Peter smashes his fist into his face – hard enough to  knock him out.

The yanking of the runner across the rest of the robbers’ stun them, giving Deadpool ample time to shoot them in the places where it hurts but won’t _kill._ Peter sighs in relief, standing up and he stretches his legs. Well time to le-

“ _Baaaaaaaaaaaby booooy!_ ”

Or probably not. He manages to jump back just as Deadpool tries to hug him, his spider-instincts going _haywire_ just from him being near, and his arms end up wrapping around nothing. Deadpool tilts and falls forward – thudding like the heavy mass of human that he is, and Peter manages to suppress the sigh that desperately wants to escape.

He looks down at Deadpool, puts his hands on his hips and pokes his side with the tip of his toes. “Deadpool?” Peter asks. “You… gonna talk any time soon? Gonna get up now?”

After a minute or so, Deadpool pushes himself up on his hands, stretches, leans back and sits easy with his knees drawn up. “Aww, baby boy, I missed your absolute dismissal of my love for you.” Deadpool coos, his grin wide and clear through is mask and Peter sighs. “Oohhh, I missed that sigh too! That little ‘I’m too tired to deal with this shit’ sigh! Baby booooy, you have no clue how lonely it’s been without you!”

“I didn’t go anywhere.” Peter simply says. “Gal and I—“ however, he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Deadpool almost immediately interrupts him.

His voice is odd when he speaks, and Peter tenses up a little bit. “Speaking of Gal…”

Peter doesn’t like where this is going. “I _really_ hope you’re not going to tell me a detailed recollection of your latest dirty dream.” He says blankly, his grip a bit tight on his own hips and Wade throws up his hands in surrender.

“No, no! No dirty dream, I swear! Though… with you two both gone, my mind’s been running and…”

“Stop.”

Deadpool shrugs, a big grin spreading on his face before his expression goes blank. “You think you can tell baby girl something for me, baby boy?”

He rolls his shoulders, tilts his head side to side before nodding. “I guess. What d’ya wanna tell her?”

“It’s for you both.” That catches his attention. He squares his shoulders and he looks down at Deadpool [not on purpose! Absolutely not on purpose, it’s just… Deadpool’s still sitting and Peter is standing tall]. “I wanna let you both know… that I want to team up with you both, and I want to learn about Parker from you both.

“I want to know why the both of you defend him so vehemently.” Deadpool’s voice is oddly solemn as he says this, and Peter doesn’t even want to think about what that means.

“What?” Peter asks and he hates how flustered he sounds. “You actually—oh gosh, you’re actually going to listen to us? I mean, I don’t know if we’ll ever really team-up consistently—we barely do so already…” Deadpool snorts then grumbles something about _‘they’re team-ups in my heart…’_ and Peter ignores him. “But you can—you can hang out with us and learn more Parker, no problem!”

He sees the way Deadpool’s face goes a little slack in disbelief, and Peter curses himself when he realises that he is a bit _too_ enthusiastic about this all. “Huh,” Deadpool says, “who knew Parker got your dick hard—does Gal know?” he gasps, scandalised. “Are you… _cheating—“_

Without even thinking about it, Peter ends up webbing Deadpool’s face. “Don’t even _think_ about it. I would **_never_** cheat on her.” He hisses out, malice dripping into his voice before he relaxes considerably. “Anyway. If there is an actual crisis going on, Gal and I will more than willingly join you to fight against the big bad.”

“What if the big bad’s _in my pants?”_ Of course Deadpool leers as he says that and he finally stands up and _Peter really hates how freaking tall Deadpool is._

“Then I’ll crush it.” Peter replies coldly and Deadpool flinches. “And _not_ with my hands.”

Deadpool very loudly and conspicuously clears his throat at that. “Haaaaaaaaaha right! Right, uh, right. What if my crisis is that you two still haven’t joined my mercs for money yet?” Deadpool tries again and he nudges at Peter with his elbow. “C’moooon… I bet we have way more benefits than Parker doooooes?”

“I thought—I thought you just told me you wanted to know Parker better?” Peter asks incredulously, eyes wide as he stares at Deadpool. “I—D.P, _make up your mind!”_

“Calm down! Calm down! No need to punch me again!” Very quickly, Deadpool’s hands fly up in surrender and protection. “Worth a shot. M’still gonna try, even if I end up liking your little pretty boy CEO more than I expected…” He says that while draping his arm over Peter’s shoulder, and he wrinkles his nose at Deadpool’s smell.  “… doesn’t mean I don’t want you to work for me anymore, baby doll!”

“Ugh.” Peter shoves him away, a headache forming now from his spider-sense—seriously, what’s going on? Deadpool isn’t even _doing_ anything… “I’m _leaving_ now. Be on your best behaviour, or I’ll break your jaw.”

Deadpool sighs dreamily and Peter webs off before he can say anything. He ignores the sputtered “W-wait!” from behind him and flies off, not wanting to deal with Deadpool and his growing headache any more than he has to.

Peter is going to bet that in a week or so the feeling of danger will go away. If it doesn’t, Peter is sure he’ll get used to it soon anyway.

He is very adaptable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention but in this AU, MJ's a lesbian. I mean, she's not even in the story yet, but the gist is she dated Peter bc she felt pressured by her aunt, it didn't go over well, and had a covert relationship with Gwen who helped her come to terms with her orientation.
> 
>  **tiny edit:** all mentions of parker [peter parker at least] should hopefully now be corrected to Dr. Parker. unless by DP. I dont think DP cares.


	18. Intermission: Do it for you, not me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Peter is sixteen years old, he goes to get a prosthetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Quick warning** : There are instances of internalised ableism in here and a group of people that are rejecting Peter because of his missing limb. I tried my best to base this in the year of 2002 instead of current year, so please read this with the assumption that this is set in 2002. 
> 
> At the bottom, I'm gonna link some stuff I was able to gather while looking up info for prosthetics and stuff for this chapter! [Please note: I was only able to give these cursory glances due to my time being taken up by uni]
> 
> I had three different pairs of eyes read through this and help me decide whether or not to post this. Just in case; if you think I should change anything, please tell me!

When Peter has his first ever prosthetic, he isn’t going to lie; he doesn’t actually know what to do all that well. Going to the doctor because his aunt demands that he goes, having to deal with the questions and the suspicious looks, with aunt May being sharp and changing the subject every time the doctor asks how he has lost his arm, it’s more than Peter has ever expected.

It already doesn’t help that he has had to wait with everyone else, with one arm missing and everyone just staring at this old woman and her young teenage son who is a god damn… a god damn—he can see it in their eyes; they all think he’s a _cripple._ Tears sting his eyes at the thought of it, feeling shame heat up his face at the very notion that he has lost his arm.

But it isn’t his _fault._ It’s not his fault— _It’s not!_ He didn’t do anything wrong, and the glares he gets are unwanted, uncalled for, he doesn’t deserve it—he doesn’t deserve it. What he does deserve is the pain that burns and makes the back of his throat burn, makes bile constantly rise up and he has to swallow down, but everything else—

The stares, the absolute disgust at the sight of him…?

 

What the hell has he done for people to glare at him for losing his arm? He doesn’t want the damn pity either—he’s not _helpless._ He can and will take care of himself— He’ll deal with the pain— _he’ll deal with it on his own—_

“Peter? _Peter!_ ” May calls out, and he hates the fact that she has to hold him because he’s crying in front of the doctor and the pity that he gets from her makes him want to crack his own skull – inflict more onto himself than already – because this is not what he wants from his doctor. What he wants is to get actual help, to be told how to take care of himself, what type of prosthesis to get, to—

Damn it.

Being able to buy a prosthetic is going to be something that is going to send them into a good few years of debt, let alone the surgery he needs to properly work on his arm after it has just been ripped clean off. His stomach churns at the memory and he wishes that right now his body is still in shock and _still_ rejecting the pain.

It doesn’t erase the fact that he needs to buy a prosthetic, and that he needs to get surgery on his arm because of the way he has lost it.

That’s only adding to the fact that they _still_ need to pay off their mortgage that they are struggling with even more so now that uncle Ben is dead and aunt May – bless her soul – has to go back into working in the hospital again despite her own need for medication.

He rubs at his eyes, trying not to sob while aunt May rubs at his arms and shoulders and continues to talk with the doctor very surely—carefully, as though to not say anything that will give Peter away as Spider-man.

“I really do need to know this, Mrs. Parker.” The doctor says again, a sigh in his voice and irritation somewhat held back. “How did your nephew lose his arm?”

Aunt May is about to say something, to deflect, but Peter finally speaks up. “I, um—the attack yesterday night… I was—I was out late, I snuck out because I didn’t—I didn’t listen to aunt May and I was _being really stupid._ It was—was late at night and I went out and there was—um, there was this uh… rhinoceros guy—the one on… on the… the uh news?”

The doctor raises his eyebrow as Peter stutters through his speech, and he feels awfully _stupid_ as he tries not to shrink into his chair. Why does the doctor before him have to have such an intense and condescending stare? “I… I was… _stuck_ in the attack and I got—hit by the guy and he—he ripped it off.” He sobs as he says the half-lie—because the rhino has ripped his arm off in the end, but everything else is absolute bullshit.

He didn’t sneak out at night to disobey his aunt, he has snuck out because he wants to save the world, wants to be a hero and wants to make up for the fact that he has committed manslaughter even if there is no way to prove that he did.

 

This is all his fault.

 

“Peter?” May asks softly once they leave the office, her hands on his shoulders and her eyes gentle and sweet. “Are you okay, Peter? You were crying in there, son.”

“I’m _sorry._ ” Peter sobs out suddenly and May frowns. She looks around, takes in how people are staring at Peter’s missing arm and she leads him outside and away from all the stares.

The only person she does smile at is the child who looks at Peter with confused wonder; this isn’t the world that her parents have told her about, aunt May is sure, and her nephew isn’t the same white pale as everyone else.

All in all, Peter is definitely an oddity among all these people waiting here. “Come Peter, let’s go home.” May says, comfortingly and gently, and Peter just nods and lets himself be led away from the entire place. They walk home – aunt May’s license is expired and she is going to renew it soon enough and Peter doesn’t have his license yet – and he manages to calm down considerably on his walk home.

“Dear,” aunt May says, “we’re going to have to get you one of the cheaper prosthetics, I’m sorry.” Peter just nods, tears gathering at his eyes again as the guilt gnaws at his chest and he drowns himself in it. “Dear? _Dear!_ ” she wraps her arms around him again, presses his face into her shoulder and he wraps his arm around her and starts sobbing.

The entire time, the only thing Peter can say is _“I’m sorry”_ over and over again while aunt May hushes him and ruffles his hair. “Sweetie, it’s not your fault.” Aunt May says as he apologises over and over. “Dear, you don’t have to apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

She holds him close and leads him over to the couch where he allows Peter to sit down, curl into her, and just _cry_ because the shock and shame of it all is finally hitting him and May frowns because this isn’t something that Peter is to be ashamed of.

But she doesn’t try to convince him otherwise, not now at least—later, when Peter is more emotionally stable and able to listen to her properly without the shakiness and the absolute self-hatred that is plaguing him. “It really, _really_ is not your fault.”

“I _messed_ up.” Peter argues with a shaky voice. “I messed—“

“You messed _nothing_ up!” Aunt May says strongly, backing away to look at her nephew’s face and she cups his face. “The only ones who have messed up, Peter, are the ones who judge you for this, the ones who _refuse_ to help you properly.”

She kisses his forehead then, fingers running through his hair. “Go to sleep, dear. If you’d like to go to school tomorrow, it’s up to you.” She pauses for a bit. “We’ll figure out what to do, I promise. Peter,” she says, her voice worried, and she brings him up into her arms, “you’re going to be fine.”

Even though it feels _different,_ new, to only have one arm to be able to hug aunt May with and squeeze her with confused strength because he still can’t comprehend he has lost his arm—it feels like it’s still there, feels like Peter _should_ be able to use it, but it’s not there and he—

“I’ll do my best for you—” he says once he’s calmed down but aunt May shakes her head.

“I am not the one who lost her arm, dear.” May says, her hands cupping his face and wiping at the tear trails. “Do this for yourself, Peter. _You_ deserve the best out of this, not me.”

“But I— aren’t I wasting money? Aren’t I—“

She gapes in horror at him and that shuts him up. “Peter!” she cries out in surprise. “Are you even _listening to yourself?_ Dear, you are not—you and I are going to have to unlearn this.” She looks stricken. “Peter, you are _not_ wasting our money. Are you takin drugs?” He shakes his head. “Are you buying too much alcohol?” Again, he shakes his head. “Are you buying frivolous things too expensive for us to manage?”

He shakes his head.

“Then, you are _not_ a waste. I shouldn’t be the one to speak, I am not—I am not the one _valid_ enough to—”

“I need to do this for myself.” Peter says abruptly in response, not really giving her an answer. “I _will_ do this for myself. I’m not a waste. This is _not_ my fault.” Anger rages in him suddenly, his heart pounding against his chest. “I’m a person! _I’m a person!_ Just because—just because I lost my _arm—_ just because I lost my arm…”

He inhales sharply and swallows audibly. “I’m not sorry for this.” Peter murmurs. “I’m angry. I’m _angry_ at the lack of care.” May’s eyes glow with pride as he sits up straight. “I’m _angry._ And I’m going to use that anger to do _good_ for the world, I promise. I promise, aunt May, that a few years down the line I’ll make a chance. As Spider-man, as Peter Parker… I _will._ I promise.”

“I know you will, Peter.” She says softly. “I know you will… and hopefully you and I will be better people. There are a _lot_ of things we must unlearn.” She reminds him, and Peter nods in agreement with her.

She’s right, and Peter hates the fact that him losing his arm is what sparks his motivation into bettering his definition and knowledge of those with physical disabilities and he will probably beat himself up over it for years—

He will become a better person, that is a promise he makes to himself and if he doesn’t try then he will never, _ever_ forgive himself for it. Growth is one thing, but it hits him - then - that he's going to have to add microhairs to either his suit or his arm, try to figure out how to modify it so that he can  _still_ be Spider-man.

It's going to be difficult, taxing on his technological skills, but Peter  _will_ learn. He  _will_ adapt to it, and he will work on his arm until it can crawl on walls and hopefully also shoot webs. Make his life easier.

Peter is sixteen then.

 

Fourteen years later, when Peter manages to actually have a successful company and the money to pay off their debts and all, when he has lost both arms, he goes and gets himself two bionic arms with the money he has accrued. Within their own time, Gwen and he tinker on those arms until they are both able to act as web-shooters for him, and he feels – not for the first time – satisfied with his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [quick note: these are APA cited used with the help of citationmachine.net; the reason why they're cited this way is so that it both has the title in it as well as the link and thus gives more description]  
>   
> Issue, B. (n.d.). Past and Present Perceptions Towards Disability: A Historical Perspective | Munyi | Disability Studies Quarterly. Retrieved October 07, 2016, from http://dsq-sds.org/article/view/3197/3068  
>   
> Home, A. (n.d.). Challenging Hidden Oppression: Mothers Caring for Children with Disabilities. Retrieved October 07, 2016, from http://www1.uwindsor.ca/criticalsocialwork/challenging-hidden-oppression-mothers-caring-for-children-with-disabilities  
>    
> Zuo, K. J., & Olson, J. L. (2014). The evolution of functional hand replacement: From iron prostheses to hand transplantation. Retrieved October 07, 2016, from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4128433/  
>   
>   
> Center for International Rehabilitation Research Information and Exchange. (n.d.). Prosthetics. Retrieved October 07, 2016, from http://cirrie.buffalo.edu/encyclopedia/en/article/120/  
>   
>   
> Myoelectric prosthetics 101. (n.d.). Retrieved October 07, 2016, from http://www.ottobockus.com/prosthetics/info-for-new-amputees/prosthetics-101/myoelectric-prosthetics-101/  
> I hope you liked this chapter!


	19. Spin me round, baby, round

“Okay,” Gwen says as she points at Deadpool, the rest of her fingers curled into a very tight fist. “You. Listen to us. We’re pretty much doing you a favour—“

“Not really.” Peter interjects and Gwen smacks him on the back, causing him to jolt in surprise a little bit and he shakes his head. Across them both, Deadpool is pouting because he's stuck in Gwen’s webs [instead of Peter’s] and that helps to lower the incessant buzzing in his head by only a little. He is _still_ getting a headache from how _noisy_ his senses are getting. “Okay, okay. Keep going, Gal, sorry.”

She stares at him and then stares back at Deadpool, her shoulders in a tense line and Deadpool looks away like a scolded child. “I really do prefer you looking at me,” Gwen murmurs, her words hopefully far too quiet for Deadpool to hear before she speaks up. “You are going to listen to me and you’re going to follow the rules we have.

“One- _no shooting to kill._ I know that you’ve lessened up on the kill thing, but you’re still doing it for SHIELD and I don’t want you to shoot to kill anyone who seems like a major threat—that’s SHIELD’s M.O, not ours. You’re allowed to shoot to incapacitate momentarily, but do not shoot any part of the body that is important.”

“She’s basically saying not to unnecessarily maim them unless absolutely unavoidable.” Peter adds, and Deadpool just groans and lets his head drop back. He raises an eyebrow at that.

When Deadpool doesn’t say anything, Peter gives him a very gentle kick. “Owie!” he wriggles in his webbings, trying to adjust himself in a certain way that Gwen can’t keep track of and her eyes narrow. “I won’t do _aaaaaaaaaany_ of that stuff I swear! This is _so_ cliché, I would’ve thought that you’d, y’know, not do that? You understood me so well!”

“I don’t understand a thing about you.” Gwen says, and Peter quickly adds, “but we do get what you mean, and we’re sorry for judging.”

They share a look with each other, and Gwen is the one who breaks it off to stare at Deadpool. “I don’t really like this.” Gwen says after a while. “You suddenly wanna understand who Dr. Parker is? Like, I wanna believe you but a part of me just gotta doubt a once-mercenary.”

“Gal,” Peter says gently, “c’mon, give him a chance. Just because he used to be something bad doesn’t mean he _is_ bad.” Gwen _hates_ how soft he sounds, and she slumps her shoulders and tries not to groan in frustration at the absolute sweetness in Peter’s voice. “It won’t be fair on Deadpool.”

“I’m still keeping my guard up.” She claims. “And I’m still gonna have doubts. Does that sound fair to you, Deadpool?”

He stares at her with a very, very blank expression and she stares back just as blankly, and Peter shifts uncomfortably as two stare into one another like predators trespassing into each other’s territory. “That sounds _absuhlutely_ reasonable, baby girl!” Deadpool coos, still wriggling about, and Gwen jolts in realisation when she catches sight of something glinting.

Within moments, she’s immediately moving forward and, easily, she tears Deadpool’s webs off and he falls down from the wall of the alley that he has been webbed to. He falls down with a loud _thunk,_ a yelp escapes him and Gwen stands above him with her hands on his hips. When Deadpool peeks up, he whistles obnoxiously and Gwen bites her tongue to try not to laugh.

“Well, _hello there,_ the sight of my dreams… I always knew you’d look good from ground view.” Deadpool sighs, and Gwen pokes his face with her foot before she shoves it in his face to hide his view. “Heyyyy! Not fair, not faaaair! I mean, I’m _totally_ into this too but—“

“Whyyyyyy are you so _impossible._ ” Peter says, the suffering clear in his and he shoves Deadpool away from Gwen, causing her foot to hover awkwardly in the air and he huffs. “Stop flirting with my girlfriend. Or thinking of how you can put her in your wet dreams.”

Deadpool groans before he finally stands up, cracking his joints and Peter and Gwen both flinch at how uncomfortable it sounds. “So… are we gonna team-up? Are we? I mean, normally we do team-up, but this is more of a _bonding_ experience for you, I, him… about Parker. Peter Parker. The guy I thought I hated. But maybe I shouldn’t.”

“You shouldn’t.” Peter argues, but Gwen doesn’t say anything and merely looks Deadpool over. “He’s a great guy; seriously, take it from me. He’s not a bad guy and he didn’t do… whatever is it that you think he did. Seriously, what did he do to make you so bitter about him?”

Deadpool doesn’t answer and Gwen steps back and puts her hands on Peter’s shoulders, near his neck, and squeezes to keep him from pushing for more. “We’re just going to have a very _basic_ patrol today… we don’t think any one of our big villains are going to attack today.” Gwen comments, her fingers tapping and drumming on Peter’s shoulders. “If they do attack… remember, disarming, no maiming.”

She leans close and presses the area where her mouth should be against the back of Peter’s head, as though in apology for her word choice.

Deadpool hums, his hands playing with the knife that he has had hidden away and Gwen looks at it curiously—it looks ever so slightly different, though Gwen can’t tell if she’s just seeing things or not. If Peter and her are correct, their webs _should_ be made of strong enough protein compositions that they can’t be torn apart by regular blades…

She shakes her head.

“Alright, let’s go. Pool, you’re riding me today—“ she shakes her head when Deadpool giggles immaturely and she rolls her eyes. Peter kicks Deadpool’s shin and he lets out a weird cry in response to the pain. “—so get on up me. Right up there. Make sure to plant yourself _on me_ nice and—“

Peter kicks her in the shin as well and Gwen lets out a bizarre sqawk of pain. “I hate you both.” Peter says afterwards, before he points, jumps and webs away, not even waiting for either Gwen or Deadpool to follow after him.

 

 

“So, what started this change, anyway?” Gwen asks as she webs away with Deadpool on her back, following after Peter as she rapidly webs away while he tries to use one web as long as he can. “You seemed pretty adamant about it… I mean, after all, you _did_ nearly slice Spider-man’s head off over it.”

“Hey! I apologised about that already!” Deadpool whines. “Why aren’t ya letting it go? I didn’t even mean to kill him, he was able to stop him before!”

Gwen hums and then drops, listening to Deadpool scream as she gets closer and closer to the ground before she webs upwards again. “Well.” Gwen starts, her legs pressing together to allow her to fly forward. “I’ve been told I hold grudges far too well… especially when it comes to people I hold close.” Gwen sings in response, and Deadpool places his chin on her shoulder.

Peter glances over his shoulder briefly to check up on them and he quickly looks forward when Deadpool immediately tries to cozy up to Gwen. She snorts. “… Do you really wanna know what kind of person Dr. Parker is?”

“… yeah, I do.” Deadpool admits, his voice exceptionally quiet and Gwen is sure she will have miss it if she didn’t have her enhanced hearing. “Kinda had a small bit of an epiphany, maybe. Is that the right use of the word? I don’t even _know_ baby girl, you didn’t answer- don’t have to, I’m pretty sure I’m using it wrong. Am I using it wrong?”

“You want me to be honest with you?” Gwen says. “I forget. I legitimately—listen, you give me a spur of the moment and I’ll remember all the shit I forget, but if you suddenly ask me I ain’t gonna remember jack. You gonna continue?”

“Continue wh- oh! _Oh!_ Right, yes. Right. Ahem. Well I… had a moment where I thoughta somethin’… I know, right!? I can _think—_ “

Gwen grunts. “I know you can think, Pool-“ she’s interrupted by Deadpool before she can even finish her sentence. “But, I was just thinkin’—and I’m pretty sure my ex-wife suggested something? I don’t think she did. She didn’t. She didn’t suggest anything. I love her. She’s my bestest bestie. I got upset at something that I thought of—I’m always thinkin’, baby girl, what a mistake—“

“Deadpool.” Gwen says. “Get to the point.”

“I thought of something. Now I wanna follow that thought. That good for you, baby girl?”

There’s something defeatist in his voice and Gwen almost lets out an ‘oof’ when the guilt punches her, hard, in the gut. She bites her tongue a bit, teeth sinking in almost a bit too hard and about to break through the muscle and make it bleed, and then Gwen just groans. Deadpool lets out a curious ‘hm?’ at the groan that escapes her and he yells when Gwen nearly crashes.

“Calm down.” Gwen says. “I’m way too good at this to just die like this.”

“I don’t wanna die!” Deadpool cries out.

“You can’t.”

“It still hurts!”

“Yes but. You can’t die.”

“ _Still_ hurts.”

“I am _aware_ Deadpool, I’m just sayin you can’t die.”

“But it huuuuuurts!”

“Arguing with you is like arguing with a _cat._ ”

“Ohhh, am I as _pleasurable_ as a pussy?”

“I hate you.”

Almost as though something is lifted up from Deadpool, he grins against her shoulder and the guilt manages to dissipate at the action. Peter and her seriously need to see someone about that guilt complex they have, she seriously doubts it’s really that healthy to feel this guilty over everything.

Not that Peter will listen but hey, she can try, right?

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“What kind of person is Peter Parker, anyway?” Wade asks while he holds back some _bastard_ that is about to kill someone he just hates, and Spider-man punches the person in his hold hard enough to knock him out. “Like, for as much as that _pretty boy_ has done ‘some good’, it’s kinda hard to find that fucker anywhere.”

He lets the guy in his hold just flops and he yelps and falls down onto his knees, hands on his head as Spider-gal sends someone flying over his way. He doesn’t exactly keep track of where Spider-gal is in the port, where everyone is just trying to shoot them and kill them and…

Is it just him, or is Spider-man oddly sluggish today?

“He’s nothing like Tony Stark—that man has his dick plastered all over the world! Or, well, at least America. Peter Parker? I can barely see his face before I see his cock. Where the fuck is he? Who is he?”

Ducking, he grabs the arm of one of the bastard’s that try to punch him when Wade appears to not fall over when he gets shot and twists their arm. The scream he gets immediately causes him to elbow the guy to unconsciousness.

Across from him, Spider-man sighs as he dodges – far, far too late for Wade’s comfort – the bullets flying his way.  “He’s… private.” Spider-man struggles to say and Wade almost snorts at that. _‘What, can’t even build that guy up, Spidey?’_ Wade thinks bitterly, and he pulls his gun out to shoot someone in the arm – specifically someone who keeps trying to shoot Spider-man dead. What a piece of shit. “Really, the guy doesn’t like showing off much.”

“He’s mostly interested in science!” Spider-gal yells as she flies by and kicks someone behind Wade, and she slams her hand down far too hard on Wade’s back and he is pretty sure she may or may not have accidentally chipped his spine.

Is that even possible?

Chipping spines?

“Thanks, Gal.” Spider-man says fondly; so fond that Wade almost feels sick. “She’s right, though. Like, Parker industries may sell the Pipper™ phone, but the company is definitely interested in science… specifically, using healing factors to help with advancement of medicine.”

Wade’s eyes narrow and he stares at Spider-man’s back, watching it flex and twist and he clicks his tongue. _‘I am **so glad** about the fact that they wear spandex so tight that it’s like a second skin. Hot damn.’_ “Isn’t it kinda creepy that you’re working for someone that’s tampering with like, mutant stuff?”

“Are you trying to insinuate something? Because I’m pretty sure Gal will kill you for it. And he’s not ‘tampering’!” Spider-man bites back and Wade shrugs. He has to step back when Spider-man webs someone and throws them away, and he stares at the thug roll around and smack on the floor a few times and snickers. “He isn’t a torturer, Deadpool. He’s just a scientist who wants to help.”

Spider-gal lands next to them, her hands rubbing at her own shoulders and Wade watches her appreciatively. “A’right, I think I strained a muscle. What’re we talkin’ about right now?”

“Dr. Parker.”

She hums and stretches her arm and she twists her back, a few cracking sounds being heard and Wade hears her make an annoyed grunt. A part of him really, _really_ wants to give her a massage when Spider-gal starts to press at her own back, as though trying to do undo some knots, and Wade licks at his own teeth for a bit. “I like him.” She says.

“That’s it?”

Spider-gal shrugs. “Yep.”

“Well,” Wade begins, his hands stretching out. “What a _ringing_ endorsement! I completely believe that Parkersons-“

“ ** _Parker._** It’s Parker!” Spider-man snaps.

“—that Parkly—“

“ _Deadpool!_ ”

“Is a totally okay guy just from that alone!”

Spider-gal smacks him hard then and he bets that if she ever met Shiklah then they will both be an unstoppable force. “Okay.” Spider-man is the one who talks this time. “I was actually going to do that first. Thank you, Gal.”

“I live to serve.” Is the dry response. “Deadpool, as much as I very much appreciate your efforts—“

“No you don’t.” Wade interjects.

Spider-gal doesn’t even flinch or hesitate at that, though Spider-man does smack Wade at that and, again, his mind falls on Shiklah and on how these three can be the slap trio. Slap harder, boyos. Huh, that almost sounds like some sort of sex move…

From across him, Spider-gal clears her throat. “What’s your deal?” she asks bluntly, her arms crossing in front of her and her posture straight.

“Gal, do we _really_ need to begin the interrogation on day _one?_ Can it at least wait until day two?” Spider-man hisses out, his hand landing on her elbow and he grips it tightly. “Why can’t you just—just wait until he says something really stupid—“

“I’m always saying stupid things, baby boy.” Wade sings, his hands intertwining under his chin and he flutters his eyelashes at Spider-man and he can practically _feel_ his glare.

_‘Yowch, it’s like being stabbed.’_

**[He’s probably imagining it.]**

_‘No he’s noooot! It’s Spider-man! I’d believe it if Spider-gal wants to stab me…’_

“Why are you both making this so annoyingly _difficult?_ ” Spider-man asks, but Spider-gal doesn’t even say anything. Her gaze seems to be solely focused on Wade, as though demanding something from him—well, to be fair, he still hasn’t answered her question.

Spider-man did kind of butt in. “My deal is that I wanna actually _do_ better. Fuck, I get it, you think I’m _shit_ for what I did to Spidey, but I _apologised._ I’m fucking trying to be better. It seriously feels like _nothing_ I’ll ever do is _okay_ for you.” She is still quiet. “So just, Jesus shit, _I’m trying._ I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry and I’m damn well trying.”

She is unnervingly quiet, as though she has nothing else to say to him and Spider-man is silent too. “Are you judging me? Is it judgement time?”

“Let’s go, Deadpool. We still have a lot of patrolling to do.” Spider-man says and Spider-gal just nods at the suggestion. “We have a _lot_ of ground to cover, and we aren’t going to get anywhere just standing around like this.”

“The police first.” Spider-gal points out. She lifts up the top-half of her suit, revealing a utility belt – hah! Classic – and she opens one of the pouches and brings out her phone. It’s a very plain one with just a big, blue spider on the back of it and… it’s flying at his face. He fumbles a bit to catch the phone, nearly dropping it in the process, and he gives Spider-gal a dumbfounded look. “You call. You’re part of the patrol now, and I have no clue if the police _like you,_ if they _doooon’t,_ you’re _Deadpool,_ Avengers and all…”

Dumbly, he says, “honorary Avenger.” In response to her words. She just shrugs. “You… you want me to use your phone.”

“I want you to use my _work_ phone. S’not like you can get my number from it- _don’t_ get my number from it.”

“ ** _Or mine._** ” Spider-man pipes up, his voice holding just as much if not more warning than Spider-gal’s. “Hurry up and call already so that we can get going, we have people to save… maybe? Mostly, mostly maybe.”

A part of him brightens up at that, and the whole thing actually goes surprisingly smoothly despite the fact that both Spiders are staring at him and just _waiting._ He is really not good with waiting. Once the call is done and he has hung up on the officers, a web immediately attaches to the mobile and yanks it back.

It goes flying and lands back in Gal’s hand and she slips it back into her belt before pulling her suit back onto it. “Let’s go—Spidey, you’re carrying D.P today. I’m gonna go on ahead.”

Spider-man just gives her a thumbs up and once they’ve both webbed up all the thugs, Gal quickly replaces her cartridges before she webs away. Spidey grabs him then, presses him against his side, and they’re off.

 

 

 

 

“Hey, Spidey?”

“Hm?”

“Why d’ya trust me so much?”

“I don’t, much.”

“Then why’re ya giving me so much leeway?”

“Because I’m interested in clearing Parker’s name.”

 

 

[More than anything now, Wade really wants to check the email he has been sent.]

[And maybe he will.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking about Deadpool's cell biology a lot. Also, I wish I could write more fics but I don't have the time lately, nor the energy.


	20. Ain't nothing we can do but change today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> University has been killing me. If this seems off, it's more than likely because I've been feeling 'mm...' about stuff lately, and I've been wanting to write for this but also I keep _forgetting_ all the words I wanna write. So my bad.
> 
>  **Edit:** Fixed up Gwen's scenes so that she isn't as friendly to Wade. Also made her give away a bit more info to Deadpool.

The documents on the AGMG ordeal is sitting on their kitchen counter, innocuous in their mere existence, and Peter can’t help but stare at it with a sort of blank expression on his face. The words from the documents still hang heavy in his head, and a part of him wonders if he has made some sort of mistake hiding this from the world.

There are still mutants in government hold that _have_ to be there because they’ve been horribly _ruined_ by whatever experiments that has been committed on them prior to the whole mutant rights movement and they _can’t_ leave.

 

And these people are just people who are trying to fix the mess that the government has made. He rubs his face and groans, his tea forgotten and probably cold now and he glares at it like it has done him some awful level of harm.

“Stop glaring at your mug,” Gwen says and she sips on her (hot!) coffee and Peter continues glaring at the mug. “What’s gotten you so worked up?” Gwen asks as she sets her coffee down and picks Peter’s cold tea up to dump it down the sink and pour him a new one.

“SHIELD.” Is the only answer Peter gives and Gwen looks at him with a raised eyebrow as she settles his mug of tea in front of him, and he immediately picks it up and starts to gently blow on it. He stares off at the AGMG documents sitting on their kitchen counter and Gwen blinks, follows the movement of his eyes, and her own widen for a moment before she lets out a soft ‘ah.’

She grabs her coffee and settles in next to Peter on a stool (Peter is the one who suggests they get stools for their kitchen; it’s _chic_ ) and Gwen looks at him sternly. “S’best we could’ve done at that time. What else were we gonna do? Tell the entire country and have something goin’ on that neither of us can handle?”

“Just bothers me, is all.” Peter admits and he burns his tongue on his tea and he winces. At least the healing cells present in his tongue is quick enough to deal with the pain. “I can’t help but feel like… I definitely could’ve done something. You and me’ve been doing research on mutants—“

“We don’t know enough to _reverse drastic mutations.”_ Gwen stresses. “The only things we know is that the healing cells work as they work like platelets and phagocytes. That isn’t nearly enough to determine whether or not we can _reverse_ mutations—“

“But!” Peter interjects, a bit too frantically. “We’ve also been able to determine that mutants and mutates are the same—“

Gwen brings her hand up, her brow furrowing. “Wait, what do you mean? Peter, I haven’t been keeping track of all the research going on.”

“Mutates are just mutants whose powers haven’t surfaced immediately at puberty; they’re meant to be late bloomers, kinda? But something triggers the forceful activation of their mutant powers.” Peter says a little too excitedly.

At that, Gwen lets out a soft ‘huh’ and tilts her head. “Neat.” She admits. “You think that causes a dramatic change in hormone balance?”

“Probab—wait. Wait, wait. Stay on the subject. AGMG.” He shakes his head and takes a bit sip of the tea and oh god it’s still hot, the back of his throat is burning. Healing factors, do your magic. “We could’ve helped? I don’t think the government’s being that ethical with ‘em…”

“Don’t doubt it, but Petey… you can’t save everyone. They’d just be in a slightly less oppressive area then, and we’d _still_ be getting nowhere. And before you say it, _no,_ the data that AGMG is using is wholly experimental and they still have no clue if it’s even _that_ effective.” Peter can’t help but deflate at the firmness of Gwen’s voice. “Pete, I’m sorry, but we’re not Superman. Hell, not even Superman can do all this.”

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “You’re right.” He finally says. “Guess I’m just thinking too much… headaches not helping much.”

“… from your spider-sense?”

“Yeah? It’s still goin’ crazy around DP and I have nooo idea why.” He massages his temple and Gwen shifts around, obviously looking uncomfortable and Peter wonders why things can’t be easy in life. Not that he hates her worrying over him, it’s just that he prefers it if she doesn’t have to worry so much. “He just stands ‘round near me and I’m immediately thinkin’, ‘oh no, I’m in danger!’ and because it keeps _going on and on,_ it’s makin’ me sick to the point of wantin’ to puke.”

Settling her empty mug down, she leans forward and crosses her arms on the counter in front of them and Gwen peeks at Peter from over her arms and he smiles down at her. “You should lemme do a scan of your brain and see what’s goin’ on.” She says, her voice soft and curious. “ ‘cause right now, I’m too relaxed to be mad but I’m super worried.”

“I don’t think I need it.” Peter comments and he tries to catch a reflection of himself in the dark, remaining liquid of his tea. “If it gets _too_ bad, I’ll let you do a scan. Deal?”

“Seems pretty ‘too bad’ to me right now.”

“Gwen, c’moooon…”

“ _Okay,_ okay. But you better come to me when you can, okay? This shit is worrying as hell and I really gotta know what it means.”

Peter hums and leans close to kiss the bit of her forehead that is peeking out and he smiles down at her, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly just at the sight of how _adorable_ Gwen looks like that. “I promise.” He says, very softy, and Gwen just groans and buries her face in the counter. He pets her back comfortingly. “Work?”

“Work.” Gwen says and Peter hums in agreement. He gets up, grabs Gwen’s mug and his own and dumps them off in the sink before he cracks his knuckles and stretches. “Time to get prepared, I guess.” Gwen says as she stands up, her shoulders rolling. “You gonna take over my patrols today?”

Peter nods and she gives him a double thumbs up. “Nice. I’ll go and do the paperwork we’ve missed.” Peter snickers at the defeated look on her face and he stretches.

Well, time to get started with their day, then.

* * *

In Peter’s opinion, there is no better way to relieve stress than to go web-swinging. It’s great exercise and also horribly reckless. There is something wonderful about being so free today, and it’s one of those days where he can freely enjoy beating up a bunch of pretty weak criminals that just don’t ever decide to take a break.

At least they aren’t at any ports today; he kind of wants a break from ports for a little bit. He presses his legs together and swings on by, waving at the people who point at him and stopping, every once in a while, to take a selfie with someone.

Sure, there are still the few jerks that actually believe the words that escape J. Jonah Jameson’s lying mouth – seriously, Peter is sure he can sue him for slander – but there are the few people who nervously ask him if he’ll take a selfie…

Maybe he should consider actually using that one twitter account he has made years and years ago and barely updates other than to make sure it isn’t deleted. He really, really wants to be tagged in the pictures that people take of him! It’ll be a great way to interact with the civvies… even though Peter doesn’t ever talk to them really.

Whoops. He is very bad at this.

 

But really, he isn’t only web-swinging to relieve stress—he’s web-swinging because Iron Man has sent him several texts saying _“Spider-man, Deadpool isnt shutting up abt meeting u & he keeps nagging @ me for ur number. I didnt give it to him, but keep that fucker far the fuck away from me & meet up w/ him somewhere.”_

_“he said he’ll shoot fireworks for u”_

_“good luck”_

So really, he is actually searching for Deadpool to make sure he isn’t doing anything stupid. Besides, the moment his spider-sense goes mad he knows that he’ll be close to figuring out where he is. He hums to himself, bobbing his head ever so slightly and he slams down onto the back of some crook in an alleyway.

Webbing them up is quick and easy, and he gives a quick salute to the poor teenager shaking in his boots.

“Nice hair!” Peter calls out sincerely at the blue-gradient hair of the boy before him and he smiles behind his mask at the flush that appears on the kid’s cheeks. “Make sure to call the cops on him, a’right? I’m tryin’ to find someone so I can’t hang ‘round. Swing ya later, kid!” he calls out before jumping up and away.

Peter really wants to dye his hair now… damn him and not indulging in his teenage need to have unnaturally coloured hair when he still has had the chance to do so.

It’s a bit chilly today, but it’s nothing that a cup of coffee won’t save. Though, he still needs to figure out where the hell Deadpool may even be before he actually starts shooting fireworks off because he really doesn’t doubt the man capable of doing such things. A part of him really wants to just leave and come back another day, but he knows well enough that someone will come after him and force him to go after Deadpool.

Really, Peter just wants to go to sleep now. His head barely even feels a dull hum, and he mostly sings to himself while he has nothing else to do. A part of him wonders how Gwen is doing; she seems to be enjoying the prospect of doing research more than she does company work, and Peter wonders if he should maybe give her actual job position to someone else and give her the role of researcher.

It’ll be a shame if Gwen can’t put her knowledge of neurology to use.

At some point, he starts humming _Mother Mother_ songs to himself, not really even bothering with singing them because he doesn’t feel all that mellow enough to sing. That band requires a sort of mood from him that he doesn’t have at all right now… he’s pretty okay.

As he swings around a building, body flying up into the air and Peter briefly thinks back to Gwen and his ballet classes, their gymnastic classes, and then all thoughts are washed away when a buzzing starts.

It hits him that the danger is coming from the left and when he glances over to his left, his eyes fall on what seems to be Deadpool just… brooding. He seems to be glaring at nothing at all, hands curling under his chin and he shifts on his crossed legs. He doesn’t even notice Peter swinging on by.

So when Peter webs him and throws him up in the air, Deadpool lets out a high-pitched, terrified shriek and he immediately catches him by the leather of his suit when he falls by him. “Holy **_fuck!_** ” Deadpool practically squeals out and Peter tightens his grip on the back of his suit. “Holy shit—I think I nearly shit myself.”

“That’s gross.” Peter groans out and Deadpool lets out a pleased squee this time at the sound of his voice. While still holding onto him, Peter manages to land on the edge of a roof for only a moment before he shoots off and Deadpool yells in surprise. “So,” Peter begins, coolly ignoring the fact that Deadpool is flailing a little in his grasp. “Iron Man contacted me. Were you trying to get my number out of him?”

Peter rolls his eyes from the pained groan that he hears and he shakes Deadpool a little while he tries to web with one arm.

Has he remembered to load his web cartridges in his arm today? He squints at nothing as he glides through the air and remembers, very briefly, that Gwen insists on him checking his web cartridges before he leaves.

Bless her, because Peter is sure that without her he would have ran out of web fluid soon enough. “Not reeeally.” Deadpool whines out and Peter can practically feel the puppy eyes the man sends his way.

“I can’t look at you right now.” Peter says simply and Deadpool shifts beneath him and crosses his arms. “Anyway, keep going, I’m just enjoying my accidental trek to Hell’s Kitchen.” Yeah, he doesn’t feel like trespassing on Daredevil’s turf today.

Besides, Hell’s Kitchen has _weird court cases._ Peter doesn’t feel like going there right now. Maybe later, when he’s in the mood for figuring out what is going on with the corruption and bizarreness of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Gonna meet the double D, huh?” Deadpool says, his voice perverse and Peter rolls his eyes again. “But! Anyway, back to tin can and his exuberant lies…” Peter blinks, falters slightly in thought, and they both fall for a few seconds and Deadpool screams before they quickly go back to swinging. “I was just _complaining_ about the fact that I still don’t have your numbeeers!”

Peter tries to shrug; he doesn’t have anything to say, really. Huh, his migraine is starting to make him feel nauseous. He swallows and winces at the odd, sickening taste in his throat. “I told ya, you gotta wait for at least ten dates before you can have our numbers.” Peter jokes and Deadpool huffs.

“It’s been more than ten, baby boy.” Deadpool grumbles and Peter smiles beneath his mask. It fades away quickly when his stomach lurches, so he quickly latches onto a rooftop and crawls up and shoves Deadpool at the floor of the roof. “Rude!” Deadpool cries out, and Peter just shrugs at him and tries to sit in a way that won’t upset his stomach.

Why is Deadpool triggering his spider-sense so much? He isn’t even doing anything other than groan at the pain of being slid, hard, across a very unforgiving rooftop. He kind of wishes that he can take his mask off and just run his fingers through his own hair, try and massage at his scalp and try and soothe the ache in his head.

“Well, we haven’t been on any _real_ dates, sweetheart.” Peter says as he stretches, wincing at the cracks that his body makes. “Gotta try harder if you want any, tiger.”

Deadpool is practically in his space now and Peter shoves his hand in his face, keeping the man at a small distance. “Are you telling me I have a chance!?” Deadpool gasps. “Oh baby, I can’t wait for us to elope! But… what about Spider-gal?! Are you just gonna leave her in the dust? I love your style!”

“There isn’t gonna be any elopin’, DP.” Peter says. “Iron Man said you wanted me?”

He backs away from Peter then, his fingers intertwining together and he places his chin atop his hands and sighs. “I always want you, baby boy.” Deadpool says dreamily and Peter rolls his eyes. “But, well, _no,_ it’s not that I wanted ya…”

“You just told me you always want me.”

“That’s not what I meant! I always _want want_ you, but I don’t _want_ you! As in, I mean, I don’t—need you around—shit, that sounds bad. Does that sound bad?” He nods. “Shit, that does sound bad. I mean, I wasn’t _looking_ for you, which really doesn’t sound all that great either…”

He shoots a web at Deadpool’s mouth; not to shut him up, really, but to mostly have him stop and try and calm down. “Well, I’m here now. I wasted enough time trying to get here and get to you, so really, we might as well do something together.”

“A date?” Deadpool coos excitedly once Peter has ripped the webbing off, and he is almost tempted to web his mouth again. “Oh babe, what will Gal think? Her sweet Spidey dating the devious Deadpool!” he wriggles in place. “It’s like something out of my dreams!”

Peter really feels like smacking Deadpool. “If you keep that up, I’m going to leave you.”

“Noooo!” Deadpool cries out. He lunges forward and wraps his arms around one of Peter’s – which, really, is like wrapping giant hot dog buns around a needle with how unnecessarily huge Deadpool is. “We can totally do stuff together—heck, we can even do something with the mercs for money! We can join them on their mission!” then, hurriedly, “you don’t gotta join of course, Spidey, it’s just a friend helping out a friend with his kickass merc group.”

He tilts his head to the side, considers it for a little, before he shrugs. “I’d be more comfortable if Gal was with us before we go do anything with your mercenaries.” Peter says. “So just gimme a second to call her and see if she’s free or not.”

“You just wanna have a hot threesome.” Deadpool says, matter of fact, and Peter ends up elbowing his face in response to his comment. Sure, overkill, but Peter feels like Deadpool deserves it for saying something like that.

* * *

Gwen chews on her pen, eyes going over endless documents and she really wants to slam her head against the wall. Really, why does Peter think that running a company is a good idea? _Hey, Gwen, guess what? I found the plans that Otto had for running his own company. I think I’m going to take advantage of them and start Parker industries._

Who in the name of fuck goes to a boy from Queens and tells him that he can be a big shot CEO? Not Gwen, you can bet your ass on that. The door to her office opens up and she raises her head up to stare at Anna who seems to be holding a cup of coffee for her.

 _Oh thank god._ This is probably her third cup of coffee but Gwen needs something to help her through the boring parts of her day. “You are an angel with the sassiest attitude I’ve ever met.” Gwen says as Anna walks over to her, shaking her head, and hands her the cup. “Okay, the second; Peter is the first sassiest Angel I’ve ever met.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Anna says and she glances at her phone briefly before she looks back up at Gwen. “You look like you’re about to kill a guy.”

“Noooo…” Gwen says, her voice tired and her eyes squinting. “No. I just… nooo, you know? Noooo. Nah.”

Anna opens her mouth, about to say something, until Gwen’s phone rings and she nearly rips the drawer of her desk open when she realises it isn’t her normal phone. Fumbling, she presses the call button and presses it against her ear. “I’m b-“ she says, about to snap at whoever is stupid enough to call her and she goes quiet when she realises it’s Peter.

She drums her fingers on the desk, her eyes focusing on Anna and she brightens up considerably. “I’ll be there—but tell Pool that I'll be _watching his ass_.” She says affectionately at first but her voice dips low and threatening near the end, something dark in her tone, and Gwen puts her phone down afterwards when Peter sighs and she stands up. “Anna! Tell everyone that has an appointment with me to go fuck themselves, I’m finally free!”

“Wait.” Anna calls out. “Gwen, no—wait! Get back here! Gwen!” she yells, but Gwen is already running off and away without her, her hands fiddling with her watch so that her costume is at the ready, and she groans and covers her face. “Great.”

 

When Gwen finds Peter, it’s to see him lounging atop a streetlamp while Deadpool hangs helplessly from it, swinging back and forth to her Spidey’s fancy. It's not a sight that Gwen expects, and a part of her feels the tiniest bit of pity as Deadpool squeals in fear from being swung up high in the air. “Spidey, c’mon! Lemme down, don’t be a dick!” Deadpool calls out while Peter swings him back and forth, and a ton of civvies are just staring at them both with bewildered wonder.

Yeah, in a way Gwen can’t help but feel the way they feel. “Spidey?” Gwen calls out while she lands next to him and Peter perks up at the sight of her. “What are you doing to him?” She glances at Deadpool and immediately looks away when he tries to make eye contact with her. Or, er, mask contact. Whatever. If they share a look, Deadpool may try and give her a puppy eye look that'll make her want to be  _softer._ She doesn't feel like being soft right now-- but she also doesn't feel that energetic. Sure, she's not too tired that she can't fight - she's gone and fought bad guys on half an hour's worth of sleep before -- but Gwen can't help the sluggishness she feels nonetheless.

Shaking her head, she decides to focus her attention on Peter instead of her internal monologuing.

“He said something _crass_ so…” He swings Deadpool forward and the man lets out an alarmingly accurate scream of the Wilhelm scream. “I sort of lost my temper and just had him swingin’ there. He’s _fiiiine,_  though,I kept swinging him to make sure blood didn’t rush to his bloated head.”

Gwen snorts. “Pretty sure he prefers it rushing to the _other_ head…” Gwen murmurs, her voice lacking the normal teasing tone and Peter puts a hand on her shoulder; he doesn't say anything about it, and she's grateful for that.

“I hate you.” Peter says affectionately, squeezes her shoulder, before he grabs Deadpool as he gets close enough and yanks him so that he’s holding the other against his chest. “A’right, let’s get these webs offa ya.” He reaches into his belt for a knife – specifically made for cutting apart their webs! – and he slices a clean line into the webbing.

Groaning, Deadpool wriggles and yelps as he nearly falls, manages to grab onto the streetlamp, and just hangs there like he’s hanging from monkey bars. “We should probably get offa here before Pool falls off and dies.”

Humming, Peter nods and he aims at a random building and webs off and Gwen grabs Deadpool and follows after. “So, mercs for money, huh?” Gwen says, tone a bit sharp, and Deadpool hums and pets her back. She decides to let it slide this time; she's a bit mellowed out from work. “What’d you do to make Spidey agree?”

“We made out, it was super hot—of course, I shouldn’t be tellin’ you this…” Gwen shakes her head and then shakes him frantically, violently. It's only when Deadpool makes gagging noises does Gwen stop. “Okay, okay! I didn’t make out with him without your conseeeeent!”

“You’re makin’ me sound like a pimp.” Deadpool chokes on his own laughter. Oddly, Gwen can't help the smile twitching at the corner of her lips. “I ain’t a pimp, Pool.”

“Ohhh baby, if I had that entire South Park bit memorised, I would be quoting it right back at you but I can’t remember it at all right now.” She shrugs. “But I swears I did nothings to make the Spidey agree. Other than tell him he don’t gotta join, of course.”

She nods.

Then, out of nowhere; “Why do you both like Parker so much?” She looks at him curiously. “Gal! _Watch out!_ ”  Deadpool cries out at the same time her spider-sense goes off and she looks forward and yelps when she nearly smacks into the building that Peter is on. She grabs Deadpool’s suit tightly and she slips and slides and tries to stick to the building as best she can.

Peter is a small distance above them both and looks at Gwen with what she bets is a raised eyebrow before he crawls up and away. “We both know Parker pretty well.” Gwen says as she starts crawling up with some difficulty. “Spidey knows Parkey more than I do, but we both know him pretty well if ya ask me. And I mean, you are. But—you know what I mean. He's... he's a good friend. Was our photographer too. We kinda started bonding after we saved him that one time." Gwen can't help but sound fond, only for a moment, before her voice becomes very sharp. "Why d’ya wanna know?”

She glances down at him briefly, catching – vaguely – the shape of a frown on Deadpool’s face. “So ya trust him?” Deadpool asks, something odd in his voice.

“‘Course we do,” Gwen says, and she can’t help but want to laugh saying that. Gwen _more_ than trusts Peter; she more than just knows him, and this entire thing is so laughably _bizarre_ that a part of her feels weirdly alienated from everything. This is her life; trying to pretend to be someone who has no clue who Peter Parker really is, trying to pretend that she’s just an outside party, yet she’s defending her boyfriend from an ex-mercenary.

She’s not even defending him – verbally, that is. His reputation is fine; it’s solid, everyone knows what Peter Parker does and everyone knows that the boy from Queens who became a CEO wears his heart on his sleeve and wants to save the world. Everyone knows that Peter Parker is the boy from Queens who buys beautiful, expensive suits and applies skin-coloured lip gloss just to make himself seem shinier, prettier.

Though, the lip gloss thing is something most people don’t really pick up on. “Parker’s not a bad _guy;_  trust me, he's just trying to do what's good _. Sure,_ him becoming rich overnight is... weird -- I mean, I can't handle it _myself_ that he's rich, so, yeah, really... but he's not ill meaning. Just kinda oblivious at times, if ya ask me. You know what I said about photography? Idiot'd put himself in danger a shit ton.” Gwen admits. It’s not like she’s _wrong…_ Peter can be amazingly obtuse at times, though the second half is completely a lie. Fucker makes - made - a living off'a his selfies and her modelling for him.

She remembers that those were the days when everything was simpler.

Deadpool looks at her skeptically, stares for far too long and Gwen wonders if she has accidentally given something away with her fumbling, but to her relief Deadpool seems to decide that he doesn't want to push the topic any further. “And why do ya trust him? That can't be it, right? He's 'trying' to do good? You can say that about  _every_ politician too, babe, but your definition of  _good_ gotta be subjective as fuck." Deadpool says sharply and Gwen nearly drops him out of spite.

“You’re being weirdly inquisitive today; where’s the murderous merc with the mouth at?" She bites back, her words a bit too... _venomous_ (heee). "Anyway, we’re at the top. Wave hi at Spidey.” She lifts him and shoves him over onto the roof and Peter is at the top, his arms crossed and head tilting down to look at Deadpool before Gwen crawls on up.

Deadpool lets out a small yell as he's thrown up, groans of pain escaping him as he slides across the roof but the moment he looks up and sees Peter and he immediately starts cooing. “I love being underneath you.” Deadpool says with a dreamy sigh, rolls onto his stomach and he curls his hands under his chin. “Being underneath you is like being underneath a _dream._ ”

“I don’t understand you sometimes.” Peter says, blankly. He doesn’t do anything to shove Deadpool away with his foot and just ignores the way he looks at Peter’s thighs lovingly. To be fair, Peter does have amazingly lovely thighs; she's been intimately acquainted with them (suck it, DP! ...Wait). She briefly wonders whether or not to shove Deadpool away herself, before she decides it's really not worth it. It's not like he's gonna attack Peter or anything; that'd be stupid. “So, where do we gotta go?”

Deadpool doesn’t say anything for a moment, as though stuck in his dreams, before he lets out an ‘oh!’ and gets up finally. He kicks one leg up and intertwines his fingers together, pressing his hands into his cheek. “Oh, I forgot my baby boy and baby girl are gonna join my mystical merciful mercs on a mission today! I thought I was hearing things!”

A part of Gwen can’t help but immediately feel worried about that. She always does feel that way whenever Deadpool talks about his hallucinations… A part of her reacts like a doctor does to a patient; another part of her just wants to close her eyes and plug her ears and pretend Deadpool didn't say anything. “You were definitely not hearin’ things. So where to, Monsieur Pool?” Gwen asks.

“Well, madame Lafayette,” Deadpool begins, “you’re lucky that we don’t have to go that far at _all._ All we gotta do is deal with a bunch of…. Half-dinosaur half-cat monsters down south.”

Gwen gapes a little. “ _What?”_ Peter asks for her.

“Don’t worry about it. Away we go! Carry me, my princess charming.” With that, he tiptoes his way over to Gwen’s back and jumps on, and she grabs onto his legs and helps him wrap around her. Peter just groans and shakes his head. “Gal and I’ll lead the way, like the leaders we are!”

“Stop.” Is the only thing Peter says, and Gwen can’t help but snicker at the exasperation in his voice. “Well, at least I’ll get to meet your mercs for money… not that I expect much out of them.”

Deadpool lets out a pained noise. “That _hurt._ In the _heart._ You hurt the _feelings_ in my heart, baby boy. You’re so cruel, they aren’t that bad!” Peter just shakes his head, clearly done with the conversation. Deciding not to try and force anyone to continue talking, Gwen heads off.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Deadpool says when they’re a good distance away from Peter and it takes Gwen a little bit of time to remember what he’s talking about. “Why d’ya trust him so much? What sets him apart from me, huh? I'm trying to do good too, baby girl.”

 _‘I’ve known him since childhood, is one.’_ “I just… sure, maybe I don’t know him _that_  personally," _'bullshit,'_ "but Spidey and I practically know everything about Peter Parker. He's our friend; been a friend for years.” It’s not like she’s _lying._ “Unlike you. Our first meeting was you trying to kill me, him, us, and I dunno anything about you, and m’not gonna google you or ask SHIELD for your info, so don’t even suggest it, you asshole. Trust can’t be built that way.”

Deadpool doesn’t push anything about this after that, and before Gwen can really wonder what’s going on he starts to immediately wax poetic about anime… and Gwen finds herself feeling ashamed because as much as she likes to call herself a nerd, she doesn’t actually know much anime. Deadpool has surprisingly good taste in anime... once she gets him to talk about the good ones instead of hentai after she nearly slams him against a wall.

She makes mental notes of all the things he’s talking about while she follows his directions – and really, it’s hard to keep track of the directions when he’s talking about so much all at once. Gwen’s trying to keep up, she is, but she’s a little too tired for talking right now.

Not _too_ tired, but tired enough that she can’t make quips back and forth with Deadpool. Maybe even interrogate him, she's always been better at being tough when she has to be. But not today, it seems. Well, whatever, they are getting closer and closer to the half-dinosaur half-cat monsters.

There is never a dull day as the Spiders, is there?

* * *

Everything about Parker.

 

So they know everything about Parker.

Wade doesn’t know why that bothers him, but it bothers him the entire time they’re trying to deal with the monsters. He ducks as Slapstick hits someone with a hammer and sends them flying over him and over to the Spiders – Spidey is the one who dodges while Gal webs one of the monsters and throws it into a bunch of trees.

He hears Masacre yell something, his mind quickly translating it into _‘Deadpool, there’s two of them heading your way!’_ and he yells and runs away from two of the half-cat half-dinosaurs that are chasing after him with the fury of pissed off pussies.

_Heeheee._

Hey, if he’s fighting half-cats, does that mean this is a fight for pussies? This is the best day of his life. He can’t _wait_ to throw all these pussy puns at Spider-man and see how he reacts.

 **[You should probably focus on what Gal told you.]** He punches one of the smaller monsters in the face. **[Do you really think they know everything about Parker?]**

_‘Shit, no one knows everythin’ about someone. So who cares if she doesn’t know that Parker’s like, what, into using mustard gas on his cock to get off? He's their friend.'_

**[What if there’s something darker that she doesn’t know? Friends can be good at hiding secrets.]**

Frowning, Wade tries not to let anyone catch sight of it as he shoots the weird amalgamation of a cat and dinosaur’s knee, listening to the roar of pain before Terror takes care of the one bizarre mixture that Wade has shot. _‘Whaddayamean?’_

**[All I’m saying, we didn’t find proof that Parker is messing with mutants, but didn’t find any evidence that says he _ain’t._ ]**

_‘So what? What do you suggest we do, huh?’_

The voice in his head is silent.

 

 

The email.

But he shouldn’t look at it; it’s from his _old_ group of clients, he knows it is. Who else will email him for a job offer? Everyone knows who Wade is. Everyone is well-aware of who he is. Of what he can do. He didn’t used to be the number one mercenary for hire for nothing; Wade is _hot shit._

**[You and I both know these people can _find_ information. What are the Spiders gonna do? Stalk someone? Dig deeper than they need to? Mass murder? Torture for information?]**

He has a point.

**[Our client might have the info we need. Maybe there’s something they know that the Spiders don’t.]**

Damn it.

**_{Hey, for all we know, all they might want us to do is kill the guy ‘cause he’s rich or somethin’! Then we can go bust the hell outta that guy and use his guts to confess our love for the Spiders!}_ **

**[We don’t kill anymore. Excluding SHIELD’s orders.]**

**_{Oh. Right.}_ **

He’s just going to check his email. He’s just going to check the hit. He is _not_ going to do anything more with it, he is _not going to do anything more with it. He is not going to do—_

 

When he gets back to Shiklah, she’s busy meditating or… or something, Wade has no clue, and she uses her magic to make a purple-hand wave hello at Wade. “Wow, babe, I had no clue you were this lazy outta bed.” The finger flips him off. He flips it off back and then heads over to his laptop, opens it, and tries to shove the anxiety down.

It’s probably some guy upset that Peter Parker is rich and using his wealth for good. He’s probably dipping his toes into something that he shouldn’t be. These dumbass rich philanthropists are always doing shit they shouldn’t be, and Tony’s the only fucker that’s really gotten away with it.

Probably because Tony’s a bastard.

It’s nothing. It’s just Peter Parker doing things that are making some underground, shady fucker – probably one of Kingpin’s men or something – angry and—

**[Oh.]**

**_{Oh.}_ **

Oh.

 

Oh _no._

He stares at the images that seem to stare back at Wade accusingly, as though angry that he didn’t stop Peter Parker from doing the horrors that he has been doing.

 

Oh, oh _no._ He doubts that the Spiders know about the awful experimentations that Peter Parker has been doing on—on mutants and humans alike, forcing them to look like… _like that._ And what, with the AGMG aftermath? No. The Spiders _can’t_ know. Their fucking sense of responsibility won’t _ever_ let them live this down.

No, fuck no. He is _never_ going to let them know—he sends his client his confirmation [and his price], lets them know that he _will_ kill Peter Parker eventually, and Wade glares at the pictures.  He’s going to make that fucker _pay_ and he’ll let his Spiders know, afterwards, that Parker is _not_ a good guy.

The guilt isn’t even there; the only thing he feels dread for is the Spiders reaction when their mutual friend turns out to be a scumbag.

He has to kill Peter.

_He has to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of ideas in mind. Most of which probably won't get into the fic.


	21. Notes

So I know this isn't actually a chapter in the fic and I am legitimately sorry about that, but this is just a quick heads up to anyone that is following the fic still that I haven't abandoned it, I just right now don't have the emotional energy to write for it right now no matter how much I want to.

As well, I'm also very dissatisfied with where the fic is going right now and I'm going to go back and rewrite every chapter following after the AGMG thing and try and rewrite it in a way I want it to be written. With how stressful university has been, my fic has been suffering for it because I keep forgetting and misremembering whether or not I have done something and that has been legitimately bothering me.

When I get the free time, I'm going to go and rewrite all chapters [that are not intermissions] and change the contents as much as possible so that the writing is way better and up to my own standards. I've been wanting to do a ton of stuff in the fics but because of my inability to keep up with myself and my fics, and with the fact that I've either been playing games or studying, I don't do it.

That's all, really, I just wanted to make an extra chapter because I doubt the people who follow this fic follow my tumblr and I thought it'd be better to say it here.

 

[Ignore the end notes for this one, my fic is just set to say that at the end of all chapters.]

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that this goes well! I'm actually legitimately excited to write this out, and it's a ton of fun so far. I still need to plan this out, so there will be a lot of slow updates especially with uni coming up. Thank you for reading it so far!
> 
> If you wanna contact me, you can find [me on tumblr here! ](http://www.starrelia.tumblr.com) If you'd like, please consider commenting!


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